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“You’re the man we came to meet.” 




LITTLE 
R H O D Y 


By JEAN K. BAIRD 

n 

AUTHOR OP 

“DANNY,” “CASH THREE,” “THE HONOR GIRL,” 
“ELIZABETH HOBART AT EXETER HALL.” 


ILLUSTRATED BY R. G. VOSBURGH 


IT 


THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY 

NEV YORK AKRON, OHIO CHICAGO 



I 



UBRARYof CONGRESS 
Two Cooles Received 

JUN 21 *30/ 


,iCcpvrie*’t 
4u{S'5 Ct 

COPY B. 


Copyright, 1907, 

BY 

The Saalfield Publishing Company 



MADE BY 

THE WERNER COMPANY 
AKRON, OHIO 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


^^You^re the man we came to meet^^ . 
^‘This belongs up in our room’^ 

took the money, said Petriken . 
The light fell full upon his guest^s face 


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CHAPTEE L 


The Hall rose bleak and gray in the back- 
ground. A premature frost had touched the 
ampelopsis leaves, causing them to. fall. The 
naked branches of the vine spreading over the 
stone walls looked like bare, gaunt fingers. Be- 
fore and on both sides of The Hall stretched 
the campus, broken at intervals by old forest 
trees, and fringed by rows of maples. 

It was yet two days until the formal opening 
of school for the fall term. The majority of 
the old students, eager to put their belongings 
in order and become settled before regular work 
began, had already returned. 

Beneath the shade of an old horse-chestnut, 
a half dozen seniors and middlemen lay. They 
were re-telling the stories of last year’s vic- 
tories, and planning for new conquests. 

The most conspicuous among these, perhaps 
because of his size and his confidence in his own 
powers, was John Barnes. He was a boy who 


8 


LITTLE RHODY 


had always swept everything before him. He 
had taken the honors in the high school at his 
home. He had come to The Hall with colors 
flying, and for three years they had not once 
been lowered. Lessons were child’s play to him. 
He took to athletics naturally. He was captain 
of the football team. He had never thought of 
failure. He had never known defeat. So it 
followed that he had a boyish scorn of anything 
that was weak. He lacked sympathy with both 
sorrow and suffering, for he knew of neither. 

His influence with the other boys was great. 
Where Barnes led, they followed. They ap- 
plauded his success, admired his strength, and, 
in his presence, laughed at his conceit. 

He was Texas, in the Union of Strength, 
which the boys had formed during their first 
term at The Hall. To this Union no one was 
admitted who did not stand first in some par- 
ticular. 

Barnes was Texas because of certain touch- 
downs, hitherto unexcelled, in a game with the 
‘‘Sems”; Bruce Watson was the Silver State, 


LITTLE RHODY 


9 


because he had won the medal in oratory from 
a neighboring preparatory school; Paul Eeese 
took to Latin translations, as a young duckling 
takes to the mill-pond, and for obvious reasons 
entered the Union as the old Plymouth Eock 
State. 

^‘The Union was conservative,’’ Barnes ex- 
plained to the uninitiated. ‘ ‘ A man had to show 
his mettle before he could be admitted. A man’s 
money, or the fact that his parents or grand- 
parents had gone to The Hall did not count at 
all. Admission depended upon the man him- 
self.” 

Admission to the Union was the greatest in- 
centive to study the school had. Many a boy 
began work earlier, and studied later, with the 
hope of admission in view. Suggest the possi- 
bility of his becoming a ‘ ^ State, ’ ’ and the most 
indolent boy at The Hall would have fallen 

tooth and nail” upon his books. 

A question of importance had presented it- 
self to the boys for consideration. For some 
reason, Hudson’s parents had seen fit to send 


10 


LITTLE RHODY 


him to another school for his junior year. Hud- 
son was a heavyweight, and for three terms had 
been right-tackle. There was not another boy 
in school of his weight and alertness. 

The team needed his services. There might 
be some one among the new students who would 
fall in; but this was a mere chance. Besides, 
these new men knew nothing more about foot- 
ball than could be learned on high school teams. 
This knowledge The Hall boys declared ‘‘un- 
scientific.’^ 

. ‘ ‘ There ’s Addicks, ’ ’ suggested Claude 
Adams, a long-limbed, lazy, good-natured boy, 
who had stretched himself out on his back, and 
refiectively chewed a stem of grass as he talked. 
“He wasn’t considered half bad on the team 
at home.” 

“Hasn’t any grip. I’ve tried to wrestle with 
him,” said John Barnes, thus settling forever 
Addick’s chances of getting on the team. 

“Barnes is right,” said Bruce Watson, bob- 
bing up from among the grass. Bruce was the 
youngest member of the Union. He was a 


LITTLE RHODY 


11 


bright, handsome little fellow with the most im- 
portant manner, and the greatest heart imagin- 
able. He was ready and willing to divide his 
possessions with any of the ^‘men’’ who might 
stand in need. 

He was inclined to be foppish in his dress, 
which was always of the finest material and 
best tailoring. He wore a great many articles 
of jewelry in which diamond settings were com- 
mon. 

It was not that his parents possessed greater 
wealth than the parents of the other pupils, 
only its possession was new to them. His 
father had been a young woodsman, and by 
dint of hard work and saving had been enabled 
to buy a rocky farm, running along the barren 
hillside. The soil was so poor that even weeds 
would not grow of themselves. Here he took 
his bride, a pretty, ignorant young creature who 
knew as much about farming as she did about 
Greek. But Providence seemed to look after 
them. They managed to live somehow. Here 
Bruce was born. Then the parents worked a 


12 


LITTLE RHODY 


little harder, in order to giye their boy advan- 
tages which had been denied them. 

Then came a surprise. The rocky soil which 
had been forced to yield its routine of vegeta- 
tion was bubbling with oil. In the vernacular 
of that section, they had ‘‘struck oil.’’ They 
struck it hard and long, to judge from the 
change which took place in their way of living. 
Soon there was a brown stone house in the city, 
automobiles and servants in livery. The public 
schools which they once had coveted as a privi- 
lege for Bruce were to their minds no longer 
suited to the education of their son. There 
came a series of private teachers, extending 
throughout several years. The Hall was then 
selected as being an “exclusive” school and 
Bruce was enrolled as a pupil. 

While the students were discussing the ques- 
tion of the succession to the football ranks, their 
group was enlarged by the addition of a long- 
limbed, tow-headed youth with his hands in his 
pockets, his hat back on his head, who whistled 
as he sauntered carelessly toward them. He 


LITTLE RHODY 


13 


let himself fall on the grass beside John Barnes, 
and listened to the conversation until he caught 
its drift. 

^‘If that is all that troubles you, you do your- 
self no harm,’’ he sang in a high pitched tenor 
voice. It took some seconds to finish the air so 
that he could go back to a conversational tone. 

‘‘The Doctor just told me a bit of news. The 
Hall team, if I know what I’m talking about, 
will be better than ever. Ever hear of Hal 
Petriken?” 

He eyed the boys with a droll look. The 
whole of them were suspicious of John Shafter. 
They had never known him to be serious. They 
expected a joke. 

“Ask us something that’s worth while,” said 
Bruce, jauntily flicking a bit of straw from his 
trousers, and adjusting his cuffs to his satis- 
faction. “Who wouldn’t know Hal Petriken? 
He rowed with the Princeton crew. I met him 
— that is, I saw him the last time we came from 
Europe. He was on board the same ship.” 

“Was he really!” asked John Shafter in 


14 


LITTLE RHODY 


mock surprise. glad to hear you say it. 

I was thinking all the time that he was swim- 
ming after you, or hanging on a sail rope.’’ 

‘ ‘ Everyone knows of him, ’ ’ said Barnes with 
his superior air. ^‘One of the best athletes 
among non-professionals. The whole family 
are so. One broke the record at vaulting; and 
the one who was at The Hall the year I came 
here was fine at club-swinging. But what have 
they to do with our team? Their day is gone.” 

‘‘Don’t be so sure, my duckling,” said John 
Shatter in his slow, teazing way. ‘ ‘ In the words 
of the lamented Shakespeare, ‘There are others’ 
— or other. The Doctor just told me. There’s 
another — the youngest one. He’s coming to- 
morrow. Eush Petriken is his name, and we 
must in our weak way see that he lives up to 
it.” 

“Well, that certainly is a relief. I was all at 
sea about our team. I didn’t want a weak man 
on, and yet there was not one that exactly filled 
the bill.” 

“Perhaps he doesn’t play.” The suggestion 


LITTLE RHODY 


15 


came from Bruce, and was immediately pooh- 
hoo-ed by all the others. 

^^Do yon suppose his brothers would let him 
grow up without any training?” John Shatter 
asked. ‘ ^ I ’ll wager they Ve put him through his 
paces long ago.” 

^^Oh, of course he plays,” said Barnes. 
‘‘There can be no question at all about that. 
Those things run in families. I wonder if that 
is the man the Doctor intends to put in with me. 
He spoke to me yesterday about some one from 
Ashcroft. That’s where the. Petrikens have 
their country home. I don’t doubt in the least 
that he’s the man. Of course the Doctor has 
heard of their interest in athletics, and thought 
young Petriken and I would be congenial.” 

“Well, if he’s like his brothers he’ll be the 
best man we have. They’re all big fellows, firm 
as a rock, without an ounce of extra flesh, and 
quick as a flash.” 

Bruce was on his feet as he talked, standing 
as straight as a ramrod, in order that his 
trousers might not bag at the knees. “I’ve seen 


16 


LITTLE RHODY 


them all. You know we go about a good bit 
during vacation, and IVe run across quite a 
few men with reputations. When one travels 
in his own car, of course, he has advantages. 
When we get into a city, and like the looks of 
it, we get switched otf on a siding and stay as 
long as we have a mind to.’^ 

At this, which was said with Bruce ^s most 
aggravating air of braggadocio, John Shafter 
planted his elbows on the soft grass, and sup- 
porting his chin in his upturned palm, looked 
about him with a questioning manner, sniffing 
the air; ‘^I’m sure I smelt oil,’’ he said. 

At this, Bruce flung back his head and puffed 
up like a young turkey-cock. The other boys 
laughed. 

‘‘I want you to know, Shafter,” he began. 

^‘Slow, Bruce, slow,” said Shafter good 
naturedly, ‘^this is no balloon ascension.” He 
stretched out his hand, and gave Bruce’s leg a 
patronizing pat. ‘‘It’s hard on me, Bruce. But 
I’m here to smooth down the rough edges on 
the rest of you men, and I mean to do my duty. ’ ’ 


LITTLE RHODY 


17 


one ever suspected you of being here to 
study/’ responded Bruce, still half angry. 

‘^No,” with affected sadness, haven’t time. 
All my spare minutes are spent in rubbing you 
boys smooth. In after years you may thank 
me for making you what you will be then,” John 
wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, and 
looked at Bruce with an air of being quite over- 
come. ‘‘You have yet to learn what the poet 
says, ‘ that one call-down in your youth is worth 
two in your old age. ’ ’ ’ 

Bruce was doing his best to maintain a seri- 
ous aspect. But at John’s speech his face broke 
into smiles. 

“But what has that to do with football?” he 
said. “When’s the new man coming!” 

“To-day, at noon,” said John Barnes, “at 
least, that is what the Doctor told me when he 
spoke of the man I am to room with. To make 
sure. I’ll stop in the office on the way back and 
ask.” 

^“It wouldn’t be a bad thing if we go in a body 
to meet him,” said Bruce. “You can’t make 
2 


18 


LITTLE RHODY 


too much of a man who has such brothers, not 
to mention himself. It would look well and 
show him that The Hall keeps in touch with 
college athletics. I Ve a plan. What do the rest 
of you men say about hiring carriages and auto- 
mobiles to go down in a body to meet him? We 
can ^phone over to the city, and they 11 be here 
to-morrow.” 

‘‘Money talks,” said Shatter, diving his hand 
into his pocket and bringing forth a few lonely 
nickels. ‘ ‘ That, gentlemen, ’ ’ he cried in orator- 
ical effect, “is to last the speaker until the mid- 
dle of the term. Money talks ! WTiy, this can 
not even whisper.” 

‘ ‘ I mean it, ’ ^ said Bruce. ‘ ‘ It won T cost such 
a heap. Well all go together, and if some of 
you fellows feel that you caul, I’m willing to 
make up what’s due.” He jingled the coin in 
his trousers pocket. 

“Another balloon ascension,” said Claude. 

“Look here, my world-wide illuminator,” said 
John Shatter dryly, yet meaning every word he 
said, “the honored family of which I am but a 


LITTLE RHODY 


19 


small sample copy, never dug holes in the 
ground deeper than a cellar, and they never 
found the pots of gold at the end of the rain- 
bow; but they did keep off the trolley, when 
they hadn’t a nickel to pay the fare. Suppose 
you ask the Doctor about hiring carriages to go 
two miles. He ’ll advise you to stretch your legs 
and put your money in the mission-box.” 

‘‘Well, you don’t need to roast a man — 
began Bruce, strutting up and down, and mak- 
ing a vain attempt to appear dignified. 

“The thing furthest from my thoughts,” re- 
sponded John, “I was merely using a little sand- 
paper, me boy.” 

“I think Bruce is right this far,” said John 
Barnes, “it would look well to give him a rous- 
ing welcome. We might meet him at the sta- 
tion. I think the Doctor will ‘stand’ for that if 
we walk. If you fellows agree. I’ll speak to 
him and see what he says about it. ’ ’ 

“He’ll think it’s all right if you suggest it,” 
began Shatter. “You know how he depends 
upon you for advice, Barnes.” 


20 


LITTLE RHODY 


The boys arose. John Barnes stretched ont 
his long, strong arms and yawned. He never 
allowed anything which Shafter said to touch 
him. Perhaps he felt himself superior to all 
small witticism. 

‘‘A meeting of the Union is called for to- 
morrow, this time,’’ he said. ^‘The old men 
will all be back by then. Who’s that coming 
nowU’ 

The boys looked in the direction of Barnes’ 
gaze. A loose-jointed individual, with stooping 
shoulders, was shambling across the campus 
from the direction of the distant river. A 
slouch hat was on one side of his head. His 
scarlet flannel shirt, laid open at the throat, 
dazzled the sight. 

“It’s Bernard,” said John Shafter with a 
laugh. “I felt all along that there was an empty 
void in my heart. Now I know the reason. Ber- 
nard was not here.” 

“Prom the way I saw you putting in time at 
the dinner-table, I thought that hollow, empty 
feeling was in your stomach.” 


LITTLE RHODY 


21 


striking an attitude and laying his 
broad palm against his stomach, “that’s my 
heart. I’m different, anatomically, from other 
men. My heart is where my stomach is, and 
my stomach’s gone, no one knows where. Be- 
sides, that wasn’t ‘tilne’ I was putting in; that 
was pie.” 

Meanwhile the slouching figure had drawn 
nearer, permitting a closer inspection of his 
toilet. Several pairs of long woolen stockings 
with gay tops, pulled down and drawn up so 
that no effect of color was lost, encased his 
puny legs, making them in girth that of a small 
keg. His low, heavy shoes were corked. At the 
sight of the boys his face expanded into a broad 
smile, which never left it as long as he was in 
their presence. When he smiled, his lower jaw 
fell like a trap, and hung so, displaying perfect 
sets of big white teeth. 

“If he doesn’t shut that trap-door, he’ll fall 
in some day,” said John Shafter. “Let us give 
him a royal welcome, men. Ready!” He took 
off his hat and waved frantically. “Three 


22 


LITTLE RHODY 


cheers for Sir Bernard Clark, Royal Coal 
Shoveler for The Hall, and Chief Pie Reposi- 
tory for the State.’’ 

Accepting it in good faith, the subject of the 
cheers dropped his hat and bowed. 

John Barnes turned aside with a look of dis- 
dain. ‘‘If you men are coming with me, come 
on,” he said. Bernard looked after him 
thoughtfully. 

‘ ‘ There goes the High Cockolorum, ’ ’ he said. 
“He’s the Shah of Persia and Czar of Russia 
all in one. Well, he’ll miss a grand treat this 
time. ’ ’ He turned and looked down at the boys, 
his jaw dropping, and a broad smile spreading 
over his face. The day was extremely hot. He 
was perspiring so freely that his presence was 
not pleasant. 

He mopped his brow with a big blue handker- 
chief. “How many of you folks eat ginger- 
bread — good camp-made gingerbread T’ 

‘ ‘ Every last man of us, ’ ’ said Claude. ‘ ‘ Bring 
on the gingerbread and see what you will see.” 

Shatter dropped his cap, and sitting wear- 


LITTLE RHODY 


23 


ily down on the grass as though he were over- 
come with exhaustion, said in feeble tones : 

“Bring me three loaves of bread, Bernard, 

Three loaves of soft gingerbread. 

To fill up the opening that I have 
In the middle of my head,” 

‘‘I felt sure you fellows would like it. The 
cook knows how to make it. IVe been up in a 
lumber-camp all summer (this by way of ex- 
planation), and when I was ready to leave I 
told the cook about the boys at The Hall, and 
he speaks up and says, ‘ Take along a slab of my 
gingerbread.’ And I took a slab.” 

As he was speaking, he opened the front of 
his shirt and brought forth a great piece of the 
bread. No doubt it had been excellent when 
fresh from the camp ; but contact with the man’s 
sweaty body had not added to its mouth-water- 
ing properties. He held it toward the boys. 
Bruce took a step backward. J ohn alone arose 
to the occasion. He eagerly seized upon it. 
^^Give it to me, Bernard. I’ll have a spread in 
my room to-night, and the gingerbread will be 


24 


LITTLE RHODY 


present. Not one cmmb shall anyone have un- 
til then. I’ll be oft and lock it up, or they’ll 
take it from me after you are gone. I know 
them!” 

With the cake reposing on his outstretched 
palms as though it were the most precious thing 
in the world, John made his way toward The 
Hall. Although inwardly convulsed with laugh- 
ter, he was outwardly calm and gracious, and 
the half-witted Bernard was pleased with the 
manner in which his gift had been received. 

Bernard turned and followed close at their 
heels. Loquaciousness was one of his strong 
points. He rambled on with his talking, passing 
from one subject to another, without thought 
or reason. His conversation was a monologue. 
He gave his hearers no opportunity to answer. 

‘‘Going to see the Doctor, are you really? 
Why, that’s where I’m going, too. It seems 
warm now to be talking about engines, but cold 
weather’s coming, and The Hall will be needing 
me to keep the fires going. I’ve made it warm 
for them up there for ten years now; that is, it 


LITTLE RHODY 


25 


will be this next winter; and I mean to make 
them hot for ten more years, if Providence is 
willing and the Doctor gives me the job.’’ 

Although he lacked much mentally, Bernard 
had performed his duty in a way worthily. He 
had never for a moment neglected his work. 
The engine-room and the little shop adjoining 
it, in which he did rough carpenter work, were 
models of neatness and order. He had a little 
shanty near the woods that hemmed in the 
campus. This place he always referred to as 
his bachelor quarters.” 

There was a story current that he was the 
son of excellent parents who were above the 
average in intelligence and education. Bernard, 
too, had been bright until some accident, or sick- 
ness — the rumor did not dwell on details — had 
left him as he was now. No one knew his past. 
Flowers and weeds were his friends. He knew 
them by name, and recounted their properties 
medicinal and others with the ease and exact- 
ness of a scientist. 

He paused in his talk to pull a late-blooming 


26 


LITTLE RHODY 


dandelion. ‘‘Dandelions in September. That^s 
uncommon,’’ he continued, holding it carefully 
in his hand. “Do you know what name the 
doctors give it? Taxacum de leonis, which 
means ‘ ‘ the lion ’s tooth. ’ ’ When you ’ve yellow 
jaundice, and feel peekish, and your meals lie 
in here” — he laid his hand on his stomach — 
“heavy, the best thing you can take is tea made 
of dandelion roots.” 

John Shatter turned suddenly, “Who told 
you all that, Bernard?” 

Bernard looked up at him piteously. A 
strange, bewildered look passed over his face. 
He put his hand close to the side of his head, 
“I don’t know,” he said wearily. “I know — I 
know — but I can’t remember. Something is 
gone — somewhere. There was lots more I 
knew, but — that’s all I ever remember.” 

“Well, what you don’t know won’t hurt you,” 
said Shatter philosophically. 

Then he flung back his head, and in several 
keys sang these words of his improvising : 


LITTLE RHODY 


27 


“The things I know that some folks say. 
Break me all up in a dreadful way. 

My heart’s so tender. 

But the things that are, and I don’t know. 
Don’t hurt me a hit although they’re so. 
Although my heart’s so tender.” 


‘^There’s the Doctor now, just going into the 
house;’’ he stopped abruptly in his song to say. 
“Let’s go and make his heart glad with the 
news that we mean to call on him.” 

He gave a gracious smile to Bernard, and 
with his hands filled with the sweaty ginger- 
bread strolled lazily after the other men. 



CHAPTER n. 


De. Weldon, or ‘‘the Doctor/^ as he was gen- 
erally referred to, was the admiration and the 
awe of every boy at The Hall. He was a man 
of broad sympathy, marked individuality, and 
great discernment in reading and moulding 
youthful character. He measured no two by 
the same rule. If a pupil were weak in one 
point, the Doctor expected him to balance ac- 
counts by being strong in another. To him, 
lessons were a means, not an end. Character 
was greater than mind or manner, but the culti- 
vation of both was the means by which he 
sought to strengthen the first. 

The rules at The Hall were elastic. He re- 
strained here, and urged on there. One lesson 
few boys left The Hall without learning thor- 
oughly. That was, what you have or the work 
you do, counts little; the great thing is what 
you are. 

He himself was a man of books, yet he was 
29 


30 


LITTLE RHODY 


not bookish. He was young enough to remem- 
ber his own youthful follies and temptations, 
and wise enough not to keep The Hall boys inno- 
cent of temptation, but to make them strong to 
withstand it. His boys left him with the thought 
of making life strenuous, not easy. Life has 
no place for parlor knights. They were to meet 
and fight battles, not the less real in that they 
contended with invisible foes. 

He listened courteously to the plan of the 
boys in regard to giving a rousing welcome to 
the new athlete who was expected that day. He 
readily granted permission to go to the train; 
then Bruce presented himself. Hitherto John 
Barnes had been spokesman. 

suggested telephoning over to town for 
an automobile, and go down in that. I spoke 
of the matter yesterday to some of the other 
men. ^ ^ 

Bruce straightened out his tie-ends, decked a 
tiny speck of lint from his sleeve and waited for 
the Doctor to speak. 

‘‘And what did the other men think of itT' 


LITTLE RHODY 


31 


‘‘They laughed at me,” responded Bruce 
frankly, “and told me I’d better stretch my 
legs, and put my money in the mission box.” 

The Doctor could scarce repress a smile. 
“Not bad advice, Bruce. I think you would be 
wise to follow it.” He took up his pen. The 
boys knew the subject was ended there. They 
had permission to walk to the station. 

tTohn Barnes waited a moment after the 
others had quitted the room. 

“Is this new man to room with me, Dr. Wel- 
don?” 

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” 

“I supposed so when I heard he was athletic. 
You knew that we would be congenial.” 

Then John Barnes paused. He knew how 
well in every way he stood at school. Yet it 
would be pleasing to have the Doctor express 
himself to that effect. 

“Congenial!” replied the Doctor slowly, “I 
really never thought of the matter in that 
light.” That was all. 

“I have been putting my quarters in order to 


32 


LITTLE RHODY 


receive him, ’ ’ continued J ohn. ‘ ‘ But I ’m afraid 
we shall not have shelf-room for our books. 
You know I roomed alone last year. Could I 
have a lower shelf put upT^ 

“I know of no objections. Bernard Clark re- 
turned yesterday. You will find him in the lit- 
tle workroom in the basement. Ask him to step 
to your room until you show him what you wish. 
He will attend to the matter. ’ ’ 

Thank you, Doctor. There was one other 
matter. I changed my clothes this morning and 
have left my keys in my room. I forgot about 
the night-latch. ’ ’ 

‘‘So you are locked out of your quarters. You 
may take the master-key. This will not be 
marked against you, for school has not begun. ’ ’ 
“I am glad of that,’^ said John. “I had to 
use the master-key but once last term.’^ 

He crossed the room, and passing behind the 
Doctor’s office chair took down from its place 
on the wall the master-key. It was a key of 
peculiar shape, which could lock and unlock any 
door at The Hall. It was for emergency only. 


LITTLE RHODY 


33 


Its use among the students was discounte- 
nanced. A mark went against the name of each 
boy who, when losing or mislaying his own key, 
was forced to use the master-key. With the 
key in his hand John quitted the office. As he 
turned into the dormitory corridor, he found 
Shafter and Watson with several other of the 
middlemen talking with Mrs. Ehen, the matron. 

She was an immense woman. Her movements 
were slow and ponderous. Her work was to 
oversee the servants in the dining-room and 
kitchen, and to see that the linen was kept in 
order. She carried her keys on a long silver 
chain attached to her waist belt. There were 
a number of these keys, and as she never ceased 
swinging them as she walked, a continual jingle 
followed her footsteps. She was an autocrat in 
her way, and proud of being an attendant at 
The Hall. 

At times she was presuming, taking it upon 
herself to call the students to account, an act 
bitterly resented by the students. Some who, 
like John Shafter, were ‘‘hail-fellow-well-met’’ 
3 


34 


LITTLE RHODY 


with everyone, were friendly with her. John 
Barnes, however, treated her courteously, but 
little more. He resented her interference, and 
took no pains to disguise his feelings. Conse- 
quently, he did not stand high in her favor. 

Claude touched John Barnes on the arm as 
he passed. ^‘Wait a moment, I wish to speak 
with you.’’ 

John halted a few steps from the group. He 
swung the key about on his finger while he 
waited. Mrs. Ehen’s sharp eyes spied it. 

‘‘Did you get permission from the Doctor to 
get the master-key?” she asked. John making 
no reply, she continued, “No student is allowed 
to touch that without permission. The Doctor 
intends to be very strict this year. He intends 
to break some of you boys of your careless 
habits — forgetting your keys and allowing them 
to lie wherever you chance to be.” 

John turned about and bowed in a manner so 
excessively courteous that it became ironical. 

“I’m glad the Doctor has confided in you. 


LITTLE RHODY 


35 


Mrs. Ehen. No doubt he came to yon for ad- 
vice.’’ 

^^Well, I know that much about it. And I’ll 
warn yon about being careful. You know how 
careless you were the first term. You all need 
strict discipline.” 

‘‘No doubt, Mrs. Ehen. But I for one prefer 
to receive discipline from my instructors rather 
than the servants. Are you ready, Adams 1 ’ ’ 

The other boys joined him. Mrs. Ehen looked 
after him. She was angry. But words with 
John Barnes were useless. He would neither 
argue nor discuss a matter with her. He an- 
swered and walked away. 

Composing herself, she plodded on to the 
linen room, her keys keeping up a jingle as she 
walked. 

“Come into my room a moment,” said 
Barnes. “I must measure these shelves so that 
Bernard may know how much lumber to bring 
up. I wish the thing could be done before the 
new man appears. I’d like to give him a good 


86 


LITTLE RHODY 


impression of the place. Two men in these 
rooms, though, is going to give ns rather close 
quarters. By the time he has his racket and 
football, and suit stu:ffed in here, we ^11 be like 
a can of sardines.’’ 

‘‘Why didn’t you kickT’ suggested John 
Shatter, stretching himself out on the bed. 
“Tell the Doctor that you couldn’t possibly take 
a man in with you. ’ ’ 

“I would have done it had it been anyone 
else. But I think the Doctor wanted us to be 
together.” 

“You wouldn’t have thought that was four 
feet long — ^would you?” he continued as he fin- 
ished measuring the place designed for the new 
shelf. ‘ ‘ How long would you have said ? ’ ’ 

“I wouldn’t have thought about it,” answered 
Shatter wearily, as though overcome with the 
thought of thinking. “Don’t you make any 
practical use of your lessons in physiology? 
Don’t you remember that every action wears 
away an atomic portion of the cerebrum? I 
mean to keep my brain in good repair. If it 


LITTLE RHODY 


37 


wears oat, it won’t be my fault. I’ve never 
used it much. ’ ’ 

At this Claude haw-hawed. He patted John 
Shafter patronizingly on the head. Truer 
word was never said, my boy. Your brain will 
be none the worse for the thinking you do. But 
if I were you, I’d be afraid of its rusting and 
growing stiff in its joints.” 

^‘That’s just the way,” said John Shafter in 
mock reproach, make a scientific remark, 
with all the physiologies in The Hall to back me 
up, and you men turn it into nonsense. You 
can’t appreciate a serious minded man. I shall 
leave you and go where I am appreciated. ’ ’ He 
arose. 

^‘Come on down to the basement with me,” 
said John Barnes, must see Bernard about 
this shelf.” 

‘‘He’s a queer duck, isn’t he?” said Shafter. 
“I confess he made me feel queer yesterday, 
when he said ‘something had gone away.’ He 
just escaped being a genius.” 

“By a good bit,” returned Barnes. “He’s 


38 


LITTLE RHODY 


not an eccentric by any means. He’s daft as 
can be. It’s people of his kind that are liable 
to go suddenly insane and commit horrible 
deeds. I wonder the Doctor keeps him here. 
I’d send him about his business.” 

‘‘He’s not a bad sort. There’s worse than 
Bernard. He’s as careful as can be about the 
fires, and he never comes into the dormitories 
unless he has work to do. I think it’s mighty 
good of the Doctor. What would the poor fel- 
low do if he was sent adrift?” So spoke John 
Shafter. 

“There are places for people of unbalanced 
minds,” said Barnes. He turned to lock his 
room door. “I must return the master-key to 
the office.” 

“Suppose we go down the back way and 
speak to Bernard first, then go out the main 
way. We haven’t much time to lose if we are 
to meet that eleven-thirty train.” 

They hurried down the narrow back stairway 
to the basement. 

Bernard was in the work-room, planing some 


LITTLE RHODY 


39 


rough lumber. He had changed his woodsman’s 
outfit for one more suited to his work and the 
weather. The room was barely large enough 
for a carpenter’s table. A less tidy workman 
than Bernard would have found it insufficient. 
But he had utilized every inch of wall and floor 
space. Eows of hooks had been driven into the 
wall. Here every tool he needed was hung. His 
table and a high chair stood close to the window. 

Claude stood in the hall, while Shafter and 
Barnes stepped inside. There was not room for 
more than three in these cramped quarters. 
Barnes gave his directions for the work he 
wished to be done. He was courteous always, 
but his manner was repellant rather than at- 
tractive. His courtesy was a matter of train- 
ing. It did not spring from his heart. His 
manner was the manner of one who went by 
the book. 

Bernard listened attentively. It was never 
necessary to repeat directions to him. When 
Barnes had finished, he looked up with his pecu- 
liar smile and asked, ‘^Does the Doctor know 


40 


LITTLE EHODY 


about you wanting this fixed? Will it be all 
right with him?'’ 

‘‘Certainly," with dignity. “I had his per- 
mission else I would not have come to you. ' ' 

“I never do nothing without telling the Doc- 
tor, ' ' he said. ‘ ‘ The Doctor and me have always 
been friends. I never mean to do anything that 
the Doctor wouldn't like me to do." 

“That's right, Bernard," cried John Shatter 
in his breezy, good-humored way. “Stand by 
the Doctor. He's a great friend of yours. He 
thinks a great deal of you. When you go up- 
stairs, Bernard, just glance into my room. It's 
the same old room as last year ; but I want you 
to see your gingercake. I tried to eat it, but 
much as I wanted to, I couldn 't. It seemed like 
eating an old friend. So I tied it up in the good 
old colors of The Hall and hung it on the wall. 
And every time I see it I'll remember that you 
did not forget The Hall men. There that cake 
hangs as long as I am at The Hall. Any man 
who dares touch it, settles with me. ' ' 

The face of the half-witted man grew bright 


LITTLE RHODY 


41 


at the words. He liked Shatter best of all the 
‘^men,’’ as they called themselves. Shatter al- 
ways had a pleasant word and a smile. When 
boxes came from home, Shatter always remem- 
bered him with a plate of good things. 

‘‘Well, if you won’t eat that. I’ll get you a 
piece when the ark comes down the river. The 
drive is up at the head of the run now. It 
may be the Doctor will let you go to the ark 
when they come down. You can see a good bit 
about timber-making. ’ ’ 

“ I ’ll go, Bernard. You let me know when the 
drive’s here, and I’ll get permission from the 
Doctor.” 

John Barnes had been standing by the work- 
table while this talk was going on. He listened 
with a well-bred tolerance. He was quite ready 
to move on. He was spared further impatience 
by Bruce’s appearing at the head of the stairs, 
and calling out to them to hurry if they intended 
meeting the eleven-thirty. 

Barnes turned quickly away. “We’re com- 
ing, Watson.” 


42 


LITTLE EHODY 


John Shafter followed him, turning to wave 
his hand to Bernard and calling back, ‘‘So long, 
Bernard. Let me know when the ark comes, and 
we’ll have the time of our lives.” 

“How do you know the Doctor is such a 
friend of his?” said John Barnes sharply. 
“You spoke as though you were quite assured 
of the fact.” 

“First balloon ascension,” said Shafter 
laughingly. It was his pet expression when the 
tempers of the other boys went up. “I am as- 
sured of the fact. The Doctor has been the best 
sort of friend to him ever since IVe hung my 
lyre on the weeping-willow tree about The Hall. 
Don’t he take care of him, and help him along 
every way he can?” 

“Oh, that’s mere pity,” rejoined Barnes with 
dignified contempt. 

Shafter fell to whistling. He had no desire to 
arouse Barnes’ anger. Far ahead of the rest 
of the boys, he went striding across the campus 
and down the road. He varied his whistling 
with snatches of songs, changing the words to 


LITTLE RHODY 


43 


suit the occasion, or misquoting some lines of 
poetry that had been the bugbear of their 
study in literature. At the edge of the wood he 
stopped. The remainder of the party were not 
in view. He put his hands to his mouth like a 
tube, and with all the strength of his high- 
strung tenor voice, sang out : 

‘‘Who are we^ We are, we are, we are — 
WE ! We are we, and that^s all right; but The 
Blair Hall men are out of sight. 

His voice carried beyond the woods. The 
Hall cry came in answer. But only Claude 
Adams was quick enough to send back the 
answer : — 

“Here are we! Here are we! and here are 
we! And that’s no bluff. We’re out of sight, 
but we’re just the stuff.” 

Judging from the sounds of their voices, they 
were fully a quarter mile in the rear. 

Shatter seated himself on a fallen tree to wait 
for them. As he sat there whistling to himself, 
the school carriage drove by. Walker, the col- 
ored boy of all work, was driving. The carriage 


44 


LITTLE RHODY 


was empty. Walker drew up when he saw the 
figure by the roadside. 

‘‘Law, what you sittin’ so for? Gwane to de 
station? Get in, we’re gwane there right smart. ” 

“Can’t, Walker. Thank you just the same, 
but I’m waiting for the other men to join me. 
They’re coming just beyond the woods.” 

Walker cracked his whip with a flourish and 
drove on. The boys came through the woods 
and joined Shatter. 

“The Hall carriage passed on its way to the 
station,” he said. “I wonder who is coming to 
visit us.” 

“Some woman,” said Barnes. “They never 
send the carriage down for the boys, and the 
teachers are all back.” 

The entire thirteen states which made up the 
Union had turned out to give young Petriken a 
royal welcome. The newly initiated were so 
overcome with the honor conferred upon them 
that they did little talking, but they hung upon 
Barnes’ words as though he were an oracle. 
They laughed heartily at every one of Shafter’s 


LITTLE RHODY 


45 


remarks, whether he intended them as humor- 
ous or not. 

‘‘We ought to get in order and do things up 
right,” suggested Claude Adams as they came 
in sight of the station. “We should be sure 
what call to give first and not each man of us 
sing out a ditferent thing, as we did last 
spring. ’ ’ 

“Wait until we get to the station,” said 
Barnes. “We ^11 line up then and decide on the 
order. We’ll have ten minutes to spare before 
the train is due. And you can count on this 
flyer being late about half the time.” 

They mounted the platform before the sta- 
tion, Adams, Shatter, Barnes and Watson lead- 
ing, and the second-year men bringing up the 
rear. They wore a red, white and blue ribbon 
knotted among The Hall colors. They caught 
step with a precision that was painfully mili- 
tary. They kept their heads so erect that the 
wonder was that they did not topple otf back- 
ward. 

“We’ll move on down to the further end,” 


46 


LITTLE RHODY 


said John Bames. ^‘The coaches stop about 
there, and we’ll line up, two by two. I’ll stand 
a little ahead here. I’m an odd number, you 
see. Keep a sharp lookout. We can’t mistake 
him. He may be the only passenger to get off 
here.” 

‘‘The carriage is down for some one,’ said 
Bruce. 

“Oh, that’s for some woman;” Barnes spoke 
in tones which plainly suggested that a woman 
and this brother to world-renowned athletes 
ought not to be mentioned in the same breath. 

“I’ll step up and introduce myself, and then 
introduce you as ‘ The Hall men. ’ You men will 
salute, immediately after which we’ll give the 
yell. I think that will be enough. Then, Wat- 
son, you see about his checks and leave them 
with Davis, the man with the mules. Then we’ll 
fall in, and on the way back I can introduce each 
one of you, and we will give the other yells.” 

“We’ll have to step lively if we get back be- 
fore the dining-room’s locked,” said Adams. 

The boys obediently drew up two by two in 


LITTLE RHODY 


47 


the places Barnes had indicated. The occasion 
wonld have been a solemn one had it not been 
for the presence of Shafter. Not even the 
scornful glances of Barnes could reduce him to 
the proper spirit. 

He twisted his long limbs into every imagi- 
nable shape, and his face into grimaces for the 
edification of the boys behind him. 

“I wish Bruce had worn his dress suit,” he 
said mournfully. ‘‘The new man will see him 
first on the front row and take him for a kinder- 
gartner. We should impress him with our dig- 
nity and age. I think he’d better see me first. 
For,” with a simpering grimace, “to see me is 
to love me.” 

The youths in the rear suppressed their gig- 
gles and maintained a proper air of composure. 

“I think I’d better get my lungs in order,” he 
began again, coughing back of his hands, and 
giggling like a bashful country girl. “I’m not 
very strong, and when I meet strangers, I lose 
my voice. I’m so shy. I’ll practice a little so 
I’ll be sure I brought my voice with me. Then 


48 


LITTLE RHODY 


if I lose it, I’ll know just where to look for it — 
right here on this spot.” 

He threw back his head. His month flew open 
and with a voice that was ear-splitting by the 
strength of its high notes, sang out : 

‘‘Alice Kan-eek, Kan-ep — Kan-ep; Allee- 
Kan-eek Kan-ep — Kan-ep, Hooray ! What ! ! 
Blair Hall!” 

“I gness yonr lungs are all right,” cried 
Claude, holding his hands to his ears. “But 
your voice seems weak, as though you were 
frightened. Hadn’t you better try again T’ 

“Strangers will think we’re out walking with 
a lunatic asylum,” said Bruce, carefully insert- 
ing his handkerchief between his collar and his 
perspiring throat. 

“That’s so,” said Shatter. “Bruce should 
be hidden. Let him step in here behind us 
taller men — and no one will ever see him. I be- 
lieve in hiding your friend’s infirmities.” 

The retort was cut short by the whistling of 
the train. The boys stood expectant. The 
younger lads stiffened out their knees, drew up 


LITTLE RHODY 


49 


their heads in an effort to appear their tallest. 
This having a relative of the world’s champion 
jumper come to The Hall was no small thing. 
Who could tell but that this young Petriken him- 
self might some day excel his brothers? 

<< There she comes around the bend,” cried 
Bruce, hurriedly removing his handkerchief 
from his collar and trying to appear calm. 

Every eye was upon the approaching train; 
they fairly held their breath as the engine swept 
by and the long line of coaches slowly came to 
a standstill. The boys stood near the rear of 
the parlor-car. ‘^Keep your eyes on them all. 
He might be on one of the other coaches,” said 
Barnes. 

But no one was getting off. Passengers were 
craning their heads from the windows, and 
looking with surprise upon the group of hand- 
some, well-dressed boys, who stood eager and 
expectant on the platform. 

“There’s a trunk put off,” murmured 
Bruce, “and Walker is driving close up to the 
platform.” 

4 


50 


LITTLE RHODY 


At this the porter sprang from the platform 
of the car and turned to assist some one fol- 
lowing him. The boys paid little attention to 
this. It could not be the man they were looking 
for. An athlete didn’t demand the services of 
a porter to help him get off a car. 

‘^He had to change cars at the junction,” said 
Barnes. ‘‘He may have missed connections 
there. He would if the other train were five 
minutes late.” 

“But some one’s luggage has come through.” 
Bruce always said luggage since the summer he 
had spent in England. 

The train moved off. The hoys turned about, 
to find standing close to them the passenger 
whom the porter had assisted. 

He was a boy about their own age, but so 
puny and dwarfed that he seeined like a child. 
His right foot hung limp, forcing him to use a 
crutch. His features were sharp. His face was 
thin, and marked with lines of suffering. Yet 
his expression was bright and interested. His 
frail body was quivering with pleasurable ex- 


LITTLE RHODY 


51 


citement. He evidently was waiting to address 
the boys. The moment they turned toward him, 
he spoke to John Shatter, perhaps because 
Shatter’s tace was the most genial looking in 
the crowd. 

^‘Can you tell me how to reach The Hall trom 
here? Is it tar?” he asked. 

mile or so,” was the answer. ‘‘We’re 
Hall men. We came down to meet a triend, but 
he doesn’t seem to have come. We’re going 
back to the Hall, it you’d — ” Then he glanced 
down at the crutch, “but you can’t walk so tar 
atter a long journey.” 

The stranger’s tace lighted up at the news 
that these were Hall men. 

“Are you trom The Hall? I thought so when 
I saw you. I’m a new student. My name’s 
Petriken.” He held out a thin white hand. 
Shatter grasped it warmly. Barnes had walked 
off. 

“You’re the man we came to meet,” said 
John Shatter. Then turning to the boys said, 
“Our new man, Petriken.” 


52 


LITTLE RHODY 


The boys saluted, keeping their disappoint- 
ment in the background. 

‘‘Now, men,’’ and at the word The Hall cry 
rang forth as vigorously as to the honor of one 
who would win honors for them. 


**Allee — Kan-eek, 
Kan-ep — Kan-ep ; 
Allee — ^Kan-eek 
Kan-ep, Kan-ep! 
Hooray! What! ! 
Blair Hall!” 


‘ ‘ The Doctor sent the carriage for you, ’ ’ said 
Shafter, jumping at conclusions. “Watson, see 
to the baggage. Adams, you go up in the car- 
riage with Petriken and show him our field as 
you drive past.” 

So saying, Shafter led the new man to where 
Walker sat waiting with the carriage. 

Barnes, half-way down the road, had heard 
the school cry. He looked back, shrugged his 
shoulders, and then strode on with his head in 
the air. 


CHAPTER m. 


Babnes recovered from his disappointment 
about Petriken. The two got along together in 
a fairly inditferent way. 

Petriken was not strong enough to take the 
full course. He plodded away at one or two 
studies. But even this much work gave him 
headaches, and confinement to the house made 
him nervous. He would sit for hours at his 
study-table, doing his best to get CsBsar into 
Gaul in good readable English. All the while 
his back ached and his sight was misty with 
pain. But he was a plucky little fellow. No 
one ever heard him complain. He did his best 
not to fidget, lest he should annoy Barnes at 
his study-table. His admiration for his room- 
mate was unbounded ; Barnes, the man to whom 
language and science were equally easy, and 
who knew not what it was to be tired or ill. 
When Barnes strode over the campus, always 
63 


54 


LITTLE RHODY 


a rod or more ahead of the other boys, the ad- 
miring eyes of Petriken followed him. 

A few weeks rooming with Petriken showed 
Barnes what an unselfish, honorable little fel- 
low he was. In proportion to his physical 
strength he worked harder than any other man 
in school. There was no slighting or passing' 
over the knotty problems. He hung to his les- 
sons until he knew every point they contained. 

At first Barnes treated him with inditferent 
courtesy. He was not unkind to him. He 
ignored the little chap. Only at rare intervals 
did he favor him with any attention. Then he 
tossed it to him like a crust to a hungry dog. 

Petriken did not resent this treatment. To him 
it seemed natural that one so bright and strong 
as Barnes should be intolerant of weakness in 
another. So he kept his sufferings to himself, 
although at times it took all his will power. 

At the end of three months, John expressed 
himself about the new man. Barnes with his 
particular set were crossing the campus, toward 
the football field. Petriken followed to the end 


LITTLE RHODY 


55 


of the campus, and there stood watching them. 
This had been his custom since his first evening 
at school. He would have given anything in the 
world to stride forth as they did. He was able 
to keep up with them where the ground was 
smooth ; but the field for sports lay beyond the 
hill and wood. The distance was too far and 
the road too rough to allow him to go with them. 

He always came to the triangle, the point 
where the three walks leading down from the 
building met. He would stand watching the 
boys until they were lost from view in the wood. 
He was a plucky little fellow, even Bame« 
noticed that. He neither sulked nor looked sad 
because he could not go along. He did not wish 
to spoil their fun by letting them see that he was 
grieving because he was not one of them. So 
he leaned on his crutch, and waved and smiled 
^‘good-bye’’ as the others sprang over the fence. 
Here they waved back at him, and gave the 
school cry. It was an innovation John Shafter 
had prompted. 

And Petriken with his shoulders all hunched 


56 


LITTLE RHODY 


up, the crutch supporting his weight, called out 
with them. . It was the one moment in the whole 
day at The Hall in which he felt that he really 
belonged to things and was “one of the men.” 

It was then Barnes looked back, and said with 
a manner plainly showing that his words of 
approval must settle the matter forever, “He’s 
not half bad.” 

At this John Shafter’s face took the expres- 
sion so difficult of analysis. It was impossible 
to understand whether he were the most crafty 
or the most guileless of youths. He placed his 
hand on the top rail of the fence, swung himself 
over, and leading the crowd, sang back over his 
shoulder. 

*‘A sweet old whale came up from the sea, 

Came up from the sad salt sea; 

He flopped himself into a tiny brook, 

A tiny clear brook. 

And stayed with some minnows for tea, 

Some nice little ‘minnies’ for tea. 

“There was not enough for a good square meal. 

He could have taken them all at a gulp, 

Just a common ’ everyday gulp. 

But he knew at once how the minnows would feel 






LITTLE RHODY 


67 


And so he playfully toyed with his cup, 

Declaring he wasn’t hungry a hit, 

And was hardly ready to sup, 

Was really not ready to sup. 

“So he flopped himself out of the clear running hrook 
Into the briny salt sea, 

But he thanked the minnows before he left 
For his pleasant cup of tea. 

They coughed behind their finny hands. 

They were all the hands they had, 

‘The whale’s an awful, lubberly brute! 

But then he hain’t half bad.* 


Left to himself, Petriken ambled back to The 
Hall. The hours between the closing of school 
for the day and the evening meal were long to 
him. The building was almost deserted. One 
set of boys were busy in the gymnasium, in work 
in which he could not take a part ; others were at 
the field sports; the teachers who were not on 
duty were driving or walking. During this por- 
tion of the day he could neither read nor study. 
He had fallen into the habit of hunting up Ber- 
nard and talking with him, following him about 
as he mowed the lawn or raked the fallen leaves 
from the ground. 


I- 


58 


LITTLE RHODY 


This evening, Bernard was digging up the 
dahlia roots preparatory to putting them away 
for the winter. The dahlias had been planted 
near the east side of the building. Petriken 
could sit on the porch and talk with the man as 
he worked. The boy was never content to sit 
in the doorway or on the steps. He was eager 
always to attempt as much as his strength would 
permit. The railing of the porch was supported 
by posts almost as high as his head. By dint 
of climbing, and use of his crutch, he was 
enabled to draw himself up on one of these. 
Bernard and he had been drawn so close in the 
ties of friendship that they could enjoy one 
another without a word of talking. 

Bernard worked on for some time in silence, 
the boy watching him. At length Petriken 
spoke, ‘‘The HalPs a pretty fine place. Don’t 
you think so, Bernard T’ 

“Best place in the country. Never saw nor 
heard of a place that could equal it.” 

“I don’t doubt it. I suppose you have been 
about the country a good bit, and seen the best.” 


LITTLE RHODY 


59 


Bernard wagged Ms head. ‘‘Well, I should 
say. I think I’ve seen about as much as the 
next one. I’m not one that’s content with sit- 
ting at home. I have a constitution built for 
seeing. Why, this last summer, I was all over 
Hammersley’s Fork of the Kettle Creek. I was 
‘cookie’ on the ark. One day here — float for 
hours — eat a meal — go on- — another day and 
another place. And the summer before I was 
at Leidy, on a farm. Gay times, all of them! 
But too hard on a fellow. For good steady liv- 
ing give me The Hall. I go out in the summer, 
have my fling with the best of them; but when 
school opens, here I come. And it’s a precious 
good thing I do.” 

He came closer and spoke to Petriken in a 
confidential way. “I’d like to know how the 
place could be run without me. The Doctor 
couldn’t tend fires and keep the place warm 
enough to live in. He hain’t got the muscle for 
it. Of course, I wouldn’t have him hear that I 
said so.” 

“tHave you been at The Hall long, Bernard?” 


60 


LITTLE RHODY 


He raised himself from his stooping posture. 
His hands were covered with dirt, and filled 
with bulbs. 

‘‘Did you notice the stone on the corner of the 
new wing?” 

“Yes; the comer stone.” 

“When does the writing on there say it was 
built?” 

“Ten years ago, — some time in the summer.” 

“Well, that is the time I came to The Hall. 
I always remember how long, for that wing was 
being built. There were stone-masons and brick- 
layers all working hard to finish the place before 
school opened. I came up and asked for work. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Can you lay brick ? ’ ’ 

“No; but I could carry it to them that could. 
At first the man said I wouldn’t do. I wasn’t 
strong looking — pale like. But when I told him 
I had nothing and was hungry, he told me to 
start in. I remember now how heavy those 
brick were — and hot ! We have never had days 
as hot as those.” He mopped his brow in 
memory of the perspiration of ten years pre- 


LITTLE RHODY 


61 


vioTus^. Then he went back to his digging again, 
wEistling a little, or humming to himself. 

“Where did you live before you came to The 
Hall, Bernard?’’ 

‘^What’s that?” He paused in his work at 
^the question, and came back again to where the 
boy sat. 

“How’s that?” he repeated. 

“Where did you live before you came to The 
Hall?” 

The man’s hand went up to his forehead, and 
pressed hard as though he were forcing himself 
to think. Then he let it fall back to his side. 
He looked up into Petriken’s face. A bewildered 
expression passed over his own, a puzzled, un- 
certain look, as though his memory were strug- 
gling to break through some wall. Then his jaw 
fell. For a moment, he looked as though he 
would weep. But his emotion culminated in a 
laugh which showed his mental want. 

“Isn’t that queer? Do you know, Mr. Petri- 
ken, I never thought where I was before that. 
Plain as day I see myself walking up the cam- 


62 


LITTLE RHODY 


pus to where the men were and asking for work, 
and telling them that I was hungry. I think I 
was never any place before that.’’ 

Petriken shook his head in negation at such a 
statement. 

‘‘But you must have been, Bernard. That 
was only ten years ago.” 

“Well, if you say so, yes; that is so.” He 
brightened visibly. He wagged his head from 
side to side. “Why, of course, I’d have to be 
some place before that. I must have been a 
baby and then a boy. All I know is that I was 
a man ten years ago. But you’re bound to be 
a baby first. Isn ’t that so V ’ 

‘ ‘ Yes ; I guess there is no other way. But it 
seems strange you don’t know. You must re- 
member something.” 

“Well, if you say so, of course it must be so. 
Only that’s all I remember.” 

“But how could you remember your name!” 

Bernard shook his head from side to side. ‘ ‘ I 
didn’t remember my name. How could I when 
I didn ’t know I had one ! ” 


LITTLE RHODY 


‘‘Well, that is a joke! How does it come 
then that they call you Bernard Clark T’ 

“I told them to,’’ he replied sagely. 
“Every man there was called something and I 
didn’t like to be odd. When the man told me to 
get to work he says, ‘What’s your name?’ and 
I said ‘Bernard Clark.’ ” 

“Well, that certainly is funny. Most men 
would have said Brown or Smith, especially 
when the question was sprung on them un- 
awares and they didn’t have time to think. 
What made you think of that name? Bernard 
isn’t common.” 

“I — I don’t just know,” he said doubtfully, 
rubbing his hand across his forehead as though 
to compel himself to think. “It just came to 
me and I said it. But now since you have men- 
tioned it, it does seem as though there were 
some one by that name. I can’t rightly recol- 
lect. But it wasn’t a young slim fellow like I 
was then. He must have been big like the Doc- 
tor, and his hair was nearly white. That’s the 
way it seems to me now, since you mention it.” 


64 


LITTLE EHODY 


He laughed again. His laugh always made 
his hearers feel sorry for him. He turned aside 
to his work, chuckling as he continued, ‘‘Well, 
well, whosoever ^s name it was, it’s mine now, 
and it suits me.” 

He went over the withered dahlia stalks, and 
with deft trowel turned up the bulbs to the light. 

“Bernard — Bernard Clark,” he repeated 
softly, and then laughed as though it were a fine 
joke. “Bernard — Bernard Clark,” he repeated 
more slowly and doubtfully, “Bernard — Ber — 
nard — Clark — C-l-a-r-k. Doctor Bernard Clark 
— ha-ha-ha! Now I have got it. It’s Doctor 
Bernard Clark. Doctor — Doctor! Why didn’t 
I think of that before? Doctor Clark. Save all 
your eupatorium perfoliatum and your am- 
pelopsis quinquefolia and take them to him.” 

He looked up at Petriken with a knowing leer. 
“He’ll call it eupatorium perfoliatum. But it 
is common boneset for all that. When you’re 
out of sorts, it will make you feel fine again.” 

The row of flowers ran along the unused 
path to the corner of the building. Bernard 


LITTLE RHOBY 


65 


mov^ away, filling his basket with roots, until 
he was out of speaking distanoe. 

It was almost time for Barnes and his friends 
to come back from the field. Petriken drew 
himself down from his perch, and swung across 
the campus after Bernard. He had no desire 
to be alone* Bernard was the only person avail* 
able for conversation. He was still chuckling 
to himself and repeating his own name. 

“Isn’t it about time to stop work, Bernard P’ 
asked Petriken. 

“I saw the five-forty train come round the 
bend> No^ you cannot see it now.” Bernard 
had turned to look across the valley on the out- 
skirts of which the railroad ran. ^‘But listen, 
and see if it does not whistle in a second or so. 
It doesn’t take one of those flyers long to cover 
a few miles.” 

Bernard dropped his basket of bnlbs. He 
pressed his hands against his ears. “I won’t 
hear it,’^ he said with a show of ferocity. “I 
never listen to the horrible things. Put your 
hands over your ears. Don^t listen to it.” 

5 


66 


LITTLE RHODY 


^‘Oh, nonsense, Bernard. It’s miles away. 
Wliat harm can it do yon?” 

‘‘I know.” He stood perfectly still with his 
palms covering his ears. know what it can 
do. It seems qniet, and every one sits and 
laughs and laughs, and then it breaks to pieces. 
No one laughs then. It’s all over then. There’s 
more blood than anything else. Everybody 
moans and cries, and the engine keeps screech- 
ing so they can’t be heard.” 

‘Ht’s stopped whistling now. Take down your 
hands.” 

Bernard obeyed and again took up his basket, 
and would have continued his work had Petri- 
ken permitted. But he followed close after Ber- 
nard, plying him with questions. The man had 
grown quiet. He would answer nothing in full. 

‘‘What makes you think of trains in that way, 
Bernard? That happens only once in years.” 

“I know, I know,” sagely. 

“I’ve traveled about everywhere on trains, 
and they never did that to me. You must have 
been dreaming that. ’ ’ 


LITTLE RHODY 


67 


‘‘I know, I know.’’ 

‘‘But if you are so afraid of them, what do 
you do when you go away? Don’t you travel 
on them?” 

“Travel on them?” he turned and looked at 
Petriken. The man’s face was almost ghastly 
with the horror of the thought. “Travel on 
them! Well, I guess not. You’ll never see me 
go near them. Walking is safe enough for me. 
I never go near their stations. Even the Doctor 
can’t get me to go there. There,” he suddenly 
exclaimed, pointing to the wood on the opposite 
edge of the campus, “there comes the Union and 
Barnes. He’s the high-cockolorum — the Shah 
of Persia, and the Czar of Eussia combined. 
He’s the high monkey-monk of all the monkeys, 
and the highest jinks in all Jinksland. Oh,” 
vindictively, “I wish he’d go ride in a railroad 
train. Then he wouldn’t he all that I told you. 
He wouldn’t he anything but — but,” chuckling 
again, “another Bernard Clark. How would it 
seem to have two Bernard Clarks? I rode in a 
train once. I went to sleep.” He stopped, and 


LITTLE RHODY 


touched Petriken on the arm lightly. ‘‘That 
must be what’s the trouble with me when I can’t 
remember. I’m not awake yet. I suppose I 
can never get awake myself. I wish the porter 
would call me. If you see him tell him about me. 
And let me tell you something else. You’re 
young, and you’re not a second Bernard Clark. 
Take my advice! Never go near a car or an 
engine. You’ll never get awake if you do. Will 
you remember r’ 

His manner half frightened the boy. Bernard 
had never been like this before. He was usually 
in good spirits. 

“Yes; I’ll remember,” promised Petriken in 
the hope of pacifying him. When they reached 
the building, they separated, Bernard going 
down to the workshop in the basement, and 
Petriken swmging himself across the campus to 
meet the men who were returning from their 
football practice. Barnes was ahead. He nod- 
ded condescendingly to Petriken and strode on. 
Bruce perspiring and pompous, in his football 
gear, hurled forth his opinions to the effect that 


LITTLE EHODY 


they could beat any team in the State. 

Shatter and Adams brought up the rear. 
Dawdling along, a little slower than the others 
was a habit of theirs. There was so much 
to see and talk of, as they walked along, that 
hurrying was not to be thought of. But their 
slowest pace kept up with Petriken. As they 
met, Shatter drew the boy's free arm within 
his own. 

‘^The game was great, old man," he began. 
‘‘Our world-wide illuminator made a touch- 
down. Adams skinned his nose. I'm minus a 
yard or more of cuticle from my spine, but 
what’s skin, more or less, so long as you winf 
Who’s that yahoo cutting across the campus? 
The paper man, if I’m not mistaken. Take to 
your heels, my world-wide illuminator, and see 
who’s won the Princeton-Yale game." Bruce 
cut across the campus to the front entrance, and 
seized a paper from the pile. Opening it to the 
sporting page he slowly retraced his steps to 
meet the men. As he advanced, all that could 


70 


LITTLE RHODY 


be seen was the widespread pages of the paper, 
with a pair of legs carrying it along. 

The headlines, in bold type, were readable at 
some distance. John Shatter began reading 
them at the top of his voice. Barnes, with a 
soul above such matters, kept several steps 
ahead. Enthusiasm, to his mind, was a show 
of feeling to which only the uncultivated yielded. 
He wished to hear the ball news as much as the 
others ; but it was not consistent with his dignity 
to show any eagerness. As he moved on with 
head in the air, he kept one eye on the paper in 
Bruce’s hand. As he read, he suddenly sprang 
forward and with a hurried ‘‘Beg pardon,” act- 
ually tore the paper from the other’s hands. 
Such an action on his part was so unexpected 
and unusual that the other men stood still 
while Bruce, half angry, began to bluster about. 
Barnes read the first column eagerly. Then 
dropping the paper and wheeling about, strode 
on to the building. 

“Well, I like that,” said Bruce. “I wonder 
what he thinks I am — that he can treat me like 


LITTLE RHODY 


71 


that. I’ll tell him a thing or two, next time I 
see him. He ’s not the only — . ’ ’ 

‘‘Oh, something has happened to disturb 
him,” said Shatter, picking np the paper. 
“Perhaps he saw a piece of bad news. Let me 
see.” He picked up the paper and looked at 
the front page. ‘ ‘ Here ’s a column on a political 
meeting. It can’t be that. The rubber-trust 
buying up all the gum-shoes. It isn’t that. It 
takes men with No. 7’s to grow pale at the men- 
tion of a rise in rubber. Here’s a column and 
a half of the Tannery Works.” He read aloud. 
“The United States Tannery Company Makes 
an Assignment. Every Member of What Was 
Once the Wealthiest Combine in the Country 
Ruined/^ That was the spirit of the heavy 
headlines which Shatter read. 

“Oh, it isn’t anything there,” he said, tossing 
the paper back to Bruce. “Here, my world- 
wide illuminator, hunt up your football news. 
Barnes has been eating too much and got a sud- 
den spell of indigestion. He’ll be all right by 
tomorrow.” 


T2 


LITTLE BHODY 


But that night, John Barnes^ place at the sup- 
per table was vacant. Petriken on returning 
to his room found him sitting at the study-table. 
His books were open before him. His head was 
braced on his elbows. Yet it was evident that 
he was not studying, and more evident that he 
did not wish to be disturbed. Without a word, 
Petriken got his own books. Many times dur- 
ing the evening he glanced up at Barnes, who 
during the time had not once changed his posi- 
tion. 

When the retiring-bell rang, Petriken closed 
his books and began to prepare for bed. John 
sat as before. 

^‘Do you hear the bell, Barnes?’’ he asked 
at last. 

‘‘Yes, old man. Don^t mind me. I’ll turn in 
after a while.” 

It was the first time he had favored Petriken 
with that “old man.” The boy was relieved 
both by Barnes’ tone and manner. Perhaps 
after all Barnes had not been so seriously dis- 
turbed. He went to bed and soon fell asleep. 


LITTLE RHODY 


73 


He knew not how long he slept. A knock at the 
door awakened him. Then he became conscious 
that he was lying alone. Barnes had not yet 
turned in, although the lights were off. The 
knocking continued. 

^‘In a second,’’ came the response, as Barnes 
moved across the room from where he had been 
sitting near the window. He was dressed. He 
unlocked the door and admitted Shafter, who 
was very much excited. 

‘‘Let me have your bicycle pump,^’ he said. 
‘ ‘ The Doctor wants me to go to town for Doctor 
Henderson. ’ ’ 

Barnes went to the closet and searched for 
the pump, 

‘ ‘ What ’s up ? ” he said. ‘ ‘ It must be late. ’ ’ 

“After twelve. Bernard is sick. He’s raving 
like mad. The Doctor and men teachers are 
with him. But they can’t get a doctor from 
town here. Something’s happened to the 
’phone. I’m going to ride into town.” 

Watson at this moment missed Shafter. 
“Wait one second till I get into something,” he 


74 


LITTLE RHODY 


called out. ‘‘It isn’t safe, Shafter, for you to 
go alone this time of night. You might take a 
header down the hill. I’ll be ready in a second. 
Get out my wheel.” 

Shafter hurried otf. Barnes locked the door, 
and went back to the window. 

“Haven’t you been in bed, Barnes?” said 
Petriken. He was half asleep, yet he realized 
in a dazed sort of way that it was just like 
Shafter to help a fellow out. 

“Not yet.” 

“ It ’s late. Shafter says it ’s after midnight. ’ ’ 

“Yes; I know.” 

“Aren’t you going to turn in now?” 

“Not for a while yet. I’m not sleepy. I’d 
only bother you tossing about.” 

“You’re not sick?” 

“No; good-night.” 

“You’d better turn in. You’ll not bother 
me.” 

“Not now. Good-night. ’ ’ 

There was a moment’s silence. Then Petri- 
ken spoke again. ‘ ‘ Say, Barnes ? ’ ’ 


LITTLE RHODY 


75 


‘‘Yes; what is itT’ 

“Can I do anything to help yon — whatever 
the trouble isT’ 

“No; youngster. Only go to sleep and don’t 
worry about me. Good-night!” 

“I wish you would turn in,” was the response. 

Barnes made no reply. Petriken lay quiet. 
He could not sleep now. He lay and watched 
Barnes, whose figure was dimly outlined against 
the background of the moonlighted outside. 
The morning was growing gray somewhere; 
afar olf an ambitious young rooster heralded 
the coming day. It was not until then that the 
silent figure at the window raised his head. 
Then with a sigh he moved quietly across the 
room. Moving so as to not disturb his bedfel- 
low, he lay down, without undressing, on top of 
the covers and fell into an uneasy slumber. 



CHAPTER IV. 

The sekvahts were sweeping the corridors as 
the men quitted their rooms for the dining hall. 
A slender young country girl was indifferently 
swinging her broom about, her eyes anywhere 
but on her work. ‘‘Mrs. Ehen has a new 
helper,’^ said Paul Reese. “At least I suppose 
that ’s what they would call her. But by the way 
she swings that broom — ” he shook his head 
dubiously. 

“Her name is Lo,’’ volunteered Bruce who 
was never ignorant of anything that went on in 
the school. 

“By the looks of the hall,’’ said John Shatter, 
“she is ‘Lo, the poor sweeper.’ ” 

“Perhaps she is poor and can’t raise the 
‘dust,’ ” said Claude. 

“She lives up on the pike. Her father’s 
dead,” continued Bruce. 


77 


78 


LITTLE RHODY 


‘ ‘ I know her kind. Yon read of them in books. 
She has a widowed mother, and six younger 
brothers and sisters, whom she is sending 
through college. She keeps up the house and 
pays for a trained nurse for an invalid mother 
and does it all by sweeping at The Hall.^’ 

‘‘That’s like you. Shatter, ” cried Bruce. 
“You can he depended upon to turn everything 
into a joke. You wouldn’t be serious if you 
were dying.” 

“My world-wide illuminator, I take after 
your father in that.” 

“My father? Scarcely! He’s the most seri- 
ous — ” 

“He makes ‘light’ of everything,” said Shat- 
ter. “That’s what it is to be an oil-and-gas 
man. ’ ’ 

“There’s all sorts of people in the world,” 
broke in Petriken, hobbling after them. The 
boys turned to listen. Petriken ’s voice was like 
one whose vitality was on the ebb. “In north- 
ern Pennsylvania, I once saw an ‘oil’ man. In 
Ohio, there are ‘rubber’ men. I used to see 


LITTLE RHODY 


79 


them go down to their offices each morning. The 
strangest one of all, though, was an ‘oatmeaP 
man who lived in a mansion just across the 
street.’’ 

“And we have a ^milk’ man at home,” said 
Shafter. “He’s a little hit of runt, no bigger 
than Bruce here.” 

“Perhaps he’s a ‘condensed milk’ man,” said 
Claude. 

They had reached the main hall, and the con- 
versation ceased. Professor Beardsley, the 
teacher of literature, joined them. He was one 
who had been with Bernard the night before. 

“How’s the sick?” asked Shafter. 

“All right, now. Dr. Henderson gave him an 
opiate. This morning he arose and went about 
his work as usual. He does not remember any- 
thing that happened last night, or know that we 
were with him.” 

“Do you think he might have been drinking?” 
asked Bruce. 

“No; Bernard is strictly temperate. He 


80 


LITTLE EHODY 


never goes to town. Se is ready and willing to 
do anything but that.” 

John Barnes had not come down to breakfast. 
He had thrown himself across the bed, still 
dressed, as Petriken quitted the room. The 
little chap was worried about his room-mate. 
He could not eat. He pushed his plate from 
him, and turned to the letters at his plate. 
Shatter was the only one who noticed that 
Petriken was disturbed. He attributed it to 
the right cause. He finished his breakfast and 
took up the mail. The first letter was from one 
of last yearns men, a man from near Barnes’ 
home. 

feel sorry for Barnes,” the message ran. 
‘Ht must be hard lines for a chap, who has had 
plenty of money all his life, to be let down sud- 
denly without a cent. There’s been doubts of 
that combine for a year or more. Yet we all 
hoped they ’d pull through. We kept our fears 
to ourselves on account of Barnes. But now, 
of course, since the papers have taken it up, it is 
no secret. Barnes’ mother, you know, is a 


LITTLE RHODY 


81 


widow. They say she had half a million in the 
United States Tannery Company, and will lose 
every cent, even their old home.’’ 

Shatter laid the letter down. He felt sick. 
He was sorry for Barnes, and wondered if there 
could he any way to help him. Yet Barnes was 
like himself in one thing. He was the kind that 
‘‘stayed off the trolley when he didn’t have a 
nickel.” He considered the matter on all sides, 
and decided that it would be the kindest thing 
for Barnes if the other fellows knew. In little 
ways, they might spare him, and he need never 
know that they had heard of his ill-luck. 

After breakfast each morning, it was the cus- 
tom of the students to pass from the dining- 
room, through the main hall and entrance, to the 
campus. Here they strolled up and down, until 
the chapel-bell rang. 

Shatter and Petriken were among the first 
men to be dismissed. As they came from the 
building, Bernard passed with his rake over his 
shoulder. 

“Do you know,” said Petriken, “to see that 


6 


82 


LITTLE RHODY 


man about this morning is a great relief to me. 
When I heard you say he was ill, I trembled all 
over. I’d been talking with him before supper. 
He acted rather strange, I thought. Talked in a 
queer way about engines and trains. I intro- 
duced the subject. Had he been sick, I would 
have taken a great deal of blame to myself. ’ ’ 

^‘Of course, you know,” said Shafter, ^Hhat 
he isn’t ‘all in’ mentally. But he’s all right 
about the work here. No one disturbs him. He 
never forgets anything he’s told to do. Even if 
he did, I suppose the Doctor would overlook it. 
For if Bernard was working in some places, 
he’d be driven crazy. All the men at The Hall 
make a point of being good to him.” 

“Was he always as he is now?” 

“Search me!” said Shafter. “I’ve heard 
different stories about it. No one knows where 
he came from. The day before he came here, 
there had been a dreadful wreck just below. It 
was something fearful, I’ve heard my father 
say. One of these flyers went crashing into an 
excursion train. Bernard must have been 


LITTLE RHODY 


83 


around and seen it. For the one thing he’s 
afraid of is a train.” 

‘^Yesterday he kept talking about a Dr. Ber- 
nard Clark; said he was an old gentleman with 
white hair. Did you ever hear of him?” 

‘‘No; he doesn’t live anywhere about here. 
That’s just some of Bernard’s foolish talk. 
You can’t believe all he says. He don’t remem- 
ber longer than a week.” 

“Well, he seems to remember all about weeds 
— Latin names and all.” 

“That’s easily explained. He picks that up, 
little by little, from the botany class. When he 
first came here, he used to go out with the men 
to hunt specimens. But the Doctor thought it 
would be best for him not to attempt any study. 
So he discouraged the man’s going.” 

“Wait here until the other men come up,” 
he continued, as they reached the triangle. “I 
want to tell you men something, and I might as 
well have one telling do for all. ’ ’ 

Bruce soon strutted up. From the crown of 
his handsome head to his well-shod feet, he was 


84 


LITTLE RHODY 


immaculate. His rings and cravat pins might 
have been a trifle beyond good taste, but their 
possession added a great deal to the happiness 
of the youngster. 

‘‘Come here,’’ said Shatter quietly, “I want 
to speak to you men about Barnes. It isn’t 
necessary that the whole school should hear.” 

The boys drew closer. “It was all right about 
what he saw in the paper. It was that about the 
United States Tannery Company. I had a let- 
ter from Holmes. He thought of course we 
knew, or he would never have mentioned it.” 

He proceeded to tell the tale as Holmes had 
written it. 

“Does it mean that he must leave school?” 
asked Petriken. He grew faint at the mere 
thought of it. The Hall would mean nothing at 
all to him without Barnes. 

“I don’t know that it would be so bad as 
that,” said Claude. “But of course, you can’t 
tell. A year at The Hall costs like sixty.” 

“Yes;” said Bruce, “my father said it was 
the most expensive school in the State. He said 


LITTLE RHODY 


85 


that just before I came back. I don^t mean that 
he was complaining, for he wouldn’t care if it 
cost twice as much. It’s all the same to him — > 
one dollar or a thousand.” 

world-wide illuminator,” said Shatter, 
looking at Bruce with his quizzing gaze, don’t 
you see how you hurt us by mentioning the fact 
that your paternal parent has money to burn? 
It isn’t nice to bum it under other people’s 
noses.” 

‘‘Do you think we could do anything for 
Barnes?” asked Petriken. 

He shook his head. “I’ve been thinking 
about it ever since I read this letter. But I 
don’t see how it can be done.” 

“We might make up a purse,” said Bmce. 
“We could all chip in and give him enough to 
see him through the year. I haven’t much with 
me now, but all I will have to do will be to write 
home. My father will just send a check. He 
don’t even ask what I want it for.” 

“My father sends a check too,” said Claude 
sadly. “But hot that kind. He always sends 


86 


LITTLE RHODY 


one about the time my report gets home, with 
a lot of ‘P’s’ on it. I tried to lead him to be- 
lieve it meant ‘Perfect.’ I thought he took it 
all in. But just before I left, he called me 
quietly into his office and said I should see to it 
that no more ‘perfects’ of that kind appeared 
after my name. He said he would be satisfied 
with mere ‘excellent’ or ‘good.’ He isn’t so 
slow,” continued Claude sadly and mournfully 
as though he were speaking of some one’s early 
demise. “He told me that morning that he had 
been a boy once, himself. I was surprised at the 
news. Completely stunned, as it were. I didn’t 
know what he meant by that. I had been 
thinking all the while that he had been grown- 
up, always.” 

“Well, what about the money?” asked Bruce. 

‘ ‘ It wouldn ’t do. I ’d as soon think of sending 
my old coats to the Prince of Wales,” said John. 

“What sort of a coat does the Prince of 
Wales want most of all — one that his father 
won ’t let him have ? ’ ’ 

“Give it up,” Said Shatter. “We’re not one 


LITTLE RHODY 


87 


of those patent, triple-plated, non-rustable, self- 
acting, conundrum-answering machines/’ 

‘‘A reign coat,” said Claude. 

‘^There’s the chapel-bell,” said Shatter. 
‘‘It’s a good thing, too, for Adams looks as 
though he was thinking up another one to spring 
on us. Hurry him into chapel before he has 
time.” 

For obvious reasons, Petriken did not sit on 
the straight backed chairs of the chapel. One a 
little more comfortable had been placed for him 
among the faculty. He sat at the end of the line, 
that he might pass out quickly and not be in the 
mass of men which poured into the corridor at 
the dismissal of chapel. Next to him sat the 
youngest member of the faculty — a young fel- 
low just from college. 

This morning, as Professor Cook took his 
place, Petriken greeted him with a question. 
“Professor Cook, did you ever hear of a man 
named Dr. Bernard Clark?” 

The Professor bent his brows, and thought of 
the matter seriously for a while. “The name 


88 


LITTLE RHODY 


seems familiar/’ lie said, ^‘though I can’t place 
it now. But it seems to me I heard of him up at 
Cambridge. He was a botanist. No; I’m not 
correct on that, either. There was a scientist 
there, a Dr. Clark, but Bernard was not his 
Christian name. No ; I don’t believe I do know 
any one by that name.” 

Barnes attended classes that day. His man- 
ner was as usual. No one would have suspected 
that misfortune had come upon him. If there 
was any difference in him, it was that he was 
more conventional and dignified than ever. He 
spoke to no one of his loss. The boys could 
not take the initiative. So the matter rested. 

Petriken would have sacrificed anything for 
Barnes. He had plenty of money — ^more than 
he could spend. Nothing would have pleased 
him more than to have Barnes make use of it. 
He could not come boldly out and offer it. Yet 
he watched eagerly for an opportunity to lead 
the conversation into the right channel. But 
even that seemed impossible. Barnes was much 
alone. When in his room, he put his attention 


LITTLE RHODY 


89 


on his books, and replied shortly to Petriken^s 
overtures. 

Matters moved on in this way for several 
days. Then one morning, as Petriken came back 
to his room to rest for a vacant period, he found 
Barnes there. This had never happened before ; 
for Barnes was due at a recitation in algebra. 

“Not sickr’ asked Petriken, coming to a sud- 
den halt in the doorway. 

“No,’’ was the curt response. Barnes was 
standing at his study-table, taking down his 
books from the shelves and leafing them over, 
and removing the bits of stray paper. He kept 
to his task several minutes, without noticing 
Petriken ’s presence. Suddenly he turned his 
head, speaking over his shoulder to the boy. 
“I’m ‘cutting’ class today. I expect to go home 
tomorrow. ’ ’ 

Petriken understood the reason for his leav- 
ing. This week finished the first half of the fall 
term. The Monday following, the bills for the 
second half would fall due. He hobbled over 
and stood by John’s study-table. Somehow 


90 


LITTLE RHODY 


affairs were all wrong. He had more money 
than he conld make nse of. Yet he hesitated to 
offer any to his roommate. Barnes was not the 
kind of man who conld or would depend upon 
others. 

Petriken felt that he should say something. 
At last he inquired timidly, ‘ ‘ Can I help you in 
any way? I could help pack your trunk.” 

‘‘No; thank you just the same. I don’t need 
help. I can’t get off until tomorrow, anyway, 
and it’s just as well that I keep myself busy. I 
don’t intend going back into classes again.” He 
did not look at Petriken as he talked, but kept 
turning over the leaves of his books and piling 
them in order, ready to pack. 

“Is some one ill, that you’re called home?” 
Petriken felt like a bare-faced hypocrite as he 
asked the question. 

“No,” was the response. “I’m not called 
home. I’m just going. That is, I expect to. 
But don’t speak to the other men about it. 
Something might turn up that I change my 
mind. ’ ’ 


LITTLE RHODY 


91 


Petriken felt that he could not stay with 
Barnes and not let him know that he understood 
the reason for his going. He felt a good deal like 
crying, and offering his purse to Barnes. That 
was what he would do if he stood around much 
longer. There would be a scene and little good 
would come of it. One cannot offer sympathy 
where it is not wanted. He hobbled back to the 
door. no use saying how I feel about your 

going, Barnes. You know there’s not a fellow 
in the school will be missed more. It will be 
mighty hard to get along without you. ’ ’ 

Barnes continued his work. He stood with 
his hack to Petriken, and never so much as 
turned his head toward him. 

Every one expects you to take the honors,” 
the little fellow went on. “I don’t know what 
The Hall will do, when it comes to the contests. 
We’re depending on you to win the oration. 
But now — oh, well, the ‘Sems’ will have every- 
thing their own way. They’ll be the only ones 
glad to hear that you’re gone. I suppose 
they’ll walk right over our boys next Wednes- 


92 


LITTLE RHODY 


day at the game. But I don’t suppose you’ll 
care, or think much about it. You’ll go home 
and have other matters to interest you. It 
won’t be anything to you, whether The Hall 
boys make touch-downs, or whether they’re 
walked over. I wonder who’ll take your place 
in the Union? Young Spangler, that just come 
in, can run a three-mile stretch without being 
winded. Perhaps he’U take your place. When 
you’ve — ” 

‘ ‘ Don ’t ! Shut up ! ” The tone and the words 
were a surprise. Barnes had slammed down a 
book as he spoke, and turning, faced the little 
fellow, who was quivering with the shock of 
John’s sharp tones. 

He looked up at Barnes. He understood then. 
Barnes was trembling too. He was pressing his 
lips together, and his eyes were suspiciously 
moist. 

‘‘Why don’t you stop harping on that for- 
ever,” he said. “Do you think I’m chucking 
this all because I want to? You wouldn’t and 
you’ve been here less than three months. Wait 


LITTLE RHODY 


93 


until youVe been here with the Doctor and 
the boys three whole years! Then you can 
talk about caring for The Hall and the men 
here. ’ ’ 

wasn’t thinking of you at all;” began 
Petriken. was selfish. I was thinking all 
the while of the men that were left, and how 
much they’d miss you; I most of all.” 

‘ ‘ You have no reason for missing me. I don ’t 
know that I’ve been so good to you. I might 
have done heaps that I didn’t do. I want to tell 
you though, before I leave, that I think you are 
about the grittiest man in school. I know this, 
if I had been as sick as you were all the time 
you’ve been here, I’d have chucked it all long 
ago. But you went on and never worried any- 
one about it.” 

The face of the smaller boy lighted up. From 
that moment, he was John Barnes’ slave. He 
would have done anything in the world for him. 
The surprise and the pleasure of the words con- 
fused him. He could not control himself suf- 
ficiently to answer. While he stood laboring 


94 


LITTLE RHODY 


with himself, Shafter came to the door, a score 
of bills fluttering in his hands. 

‘‘I got a check from home, and the Doctor 
cashed it for me.’^ 

He shook the money before their eyes. ‘ ‘ That 
last report I sent made me square with them. 
There was nothing on it but ‘excellents’ and 
‘goods.’ So what does my paternal parent do 
but send me this, telling me to ‘get some clothes 
and to give the boys a spread,’ in his name. He 
said the , letter the Doctor sent him made him 
feel ten years younger. It’s all right with the 
Doctor, and the spread’s good for Friday night. 
You boys will be on hand, of course. I’ll have 
the best ‘layout’ that The Hall ever saw. Bruce 
is going to town with me after school. Don’t 
forget — No. 10, at eight, Friday night. I must 
be off. That bell will ring before I get back 
to my room and put this money away.” 

Barnes, with his arms stretched back of his 
head and leaning on the desk, had stood quiet 
while Shafter had talked on. He stood so until 
Petriken spoke to him. 


LITTLE RHODY 


95 


‘‘You’ll miss that, too,” he said. 

‘ ‘ I don ’t know. I don ’t know, ’ ’ began Barnes 
slowly, gazing straight at the floor and think- 
ing intently. “I — I — want to stay here. No one 
knows how I hate to leave. There may be a 
way yet — to stay the term out, at least. I’ll stay 
if I can. I thought of something, while Shatter 
was talking. I suppose the end justifies the 
means.” Turning around he pushed the books 
away from him. “I’ll not go on with the pack- 
ing, at least. There’s your bell, youngster. 
Shatter will have to hurry, if he gets back to the 
classroom in time. He’s slow at his best and his 
rooms are far off.” 

“Besides, he has his money to lock up,” said 
Petriken. 

“He won’t waste much time on that. You 
don’t know Watson and Shatter as I do. They 
never take the trouble to lock up anything. Any- 
one could clear out their room any time. Shat- 
ter’s father makes him account for what he 
spends; but Watson scatters his money broad- 


96 


LITTLE RHODY 


cast, and half the time doesn’t know how much 
he has.” 

As he spoke, they had passed from the room 
and into the corridor. Barnes carried several 
books in his hand. “Don’t bother locking the 
door,” he said. “I’m coming back in a few 
minutes.” 

At this moment. Shatter came hurrying along 
the hall. Barnes held up the books to claim his 
attention. “Your English dictionary,” he said. 
“I’ll leave them in your room. Shatter.” 

“All right. Toss them in. The door is open. 
I can’t stop, for I’m at the tail end of the pro- 
cession as it is. Won’t the Professor tell me a 
few plain facts?” 

Barnes turned down the hall which led to No. 
10, the room occupied by Shatter and Watson. 
It was large, but isolated. A series of linen- 
closets and storerooms separated it from the 
apartments of the other boys. The door stood 
open. Barnes entered the room. The study- 
table and desk were in disorder. Barnes by 
nature was orderly. He could not dispose of 


LITTLE RHODY 


97 


the books after the manner that Shatter had 
suggested — toss them in. There was room for 
them neither on the table nor shelves. The 
former was fairly overflowing with tablets and 
odds and ends of papers. 

Barnes looked about him. There was really 
no place to put the books. He attempted to 
clear a place on the shelves. He worked as sys^ 
tematically and faithfully as though this were 
part of his required course. 

Watson and Shatter were always graded low 
for their carelessness. It was Mrs. Ehen’s duty 
to report to the Doctor any room she found dis- 
ordered. Barnes was not a swift worker. It 
was some minutes before the shelves were in 
proper order. Bruce ’s study-table, littered with 
papers, stood beneath the shelves. Barnes gath- 
ered the papers together, putting them in order. 
Underneath them was a tiny silver pin-tray, 
heaped with common pins and a few odd collar 
buttons. Eeposing on them, as though they were 
worth no more than so much glass, were two 
valuable stick pins and some studs. 


7 


LITTLE RHODY 


Taking them up in his hand, Barnes turned 
them about, that the light might play upon them. 
While he stood interested, the door swung open 
and Mrs. Ehen appeared. Close at her heels 
came the girl whom Shatter had nicknamed 
“Lo, the poor sweeper.’’ 

‘‘Move everything in the room and sweep 
thoroughly,” Mrs. Ehen was saying, while she 
jingled her keys and looked important. “This 
is the middle of the term. Take down the wash 
curtains and spreads. I’ll give you clean ones — 
after you are through sweeping.” 

She was half-way across the room, before she 
saw that Barnes was present. 

“You here!” she exclaimed rudely. “The 
room is supposed to be vacant at this hour. The 
servants must have the cleaning done. You 
must go somewhere else, Mr. Barnes. ’ ’ 

“Don’t give yourself any uneasiness,” he said 
stiffly. “I have not the slightest intention of 
staying.” He was holding the pins in his hands 
while he spoke. “Lo, the poor sweeper,” stood 
waiting, broom in hand. 


LITTLE RHODY 


99 


Barnes, with his head high and his shoulders 
erect, walked to the dressing table as though to 
replace the pins. At that instant, some one 
called, ‘‘Hi, Mrs. Ehen, Mrs. Ehen!’’ She 
turned about to leave the room. At that in- 
stant, Bernard Clark appeared. His face ex- 
panded into a broad grin. He chuckled as he 
spoke. “Say, Mrs. Ehen, the Doctor ^s sending 
me over to Hillsborough to take some jelly to 
the old ladies at the County Home. He says 
will you open the storeroom door, and get it 
for meT’ 

‘‘Finish the hall now, Lo,’^ she said. 

She waddled otf, with her keys jingling. 
Uninvited, Bernard entered the room. Oppor- 
tunities for his coming into the dormitories 
were rare. 

Bruce had been lavish with money. His room 
had many luxuries not provided by the school. 
Bernard wagged his head from side to side in 
admiration. “This is fine,’^ he said. “I 
wouldn’t mind coming to school, if my room was 
like this. Would you, Mr. Shah of Persia — 


Lore, 


100 


LITTLE RHODY 


turning to Barnes, who was lingering by the 
dressing table. 

Bernard waited not for a reply. A picture on 
the wall caught his attention. He shambled 
across the room and stood before it. It was a 
photograph of Hoffman’s ‘Christ and the 
Eulers.’ Bernard riveted his attention upon it. 
“I saw a picture like that once. It was — oh, 
where was it?” he rubbed his head. He made 
an effort to think. “It was somewhere — some- 
where, but it wasn’t all brown like this. It 
was gay — bright as could be and big — ;heaps 
bigger than this. Say, Mr. Czar of Eussia, 
where was it I saw a picture bigger than this, 
and all painted up bright?” 

He turned to address Barnes. But Barnes 
had quitted the room. The poor fellow was 
alone. He found himself excellent company. 
He walked about admiring the room and exam- 
ining in a half-curious, half-dazed way the 
dressing table. The entrance of Lo disturbed 
him. She was fast acquiring the mannerisms 
of her superior, Mrs. Ehen. She swung her 


LITTLE RHODY 


101 


broom about at a great rate as she said, ^‘Better 
get out of here. This room is to be cleared be- 
fore lunch.’’ She shook up the rugs and raised 
such a dust that Bernard was glad to shamble 
otf. 

Barnes went back to his room. Here he found 
many things to claim his attention. Among 
others, was the examination of a small box 
which he had always kept locked in his desk. 

He was so absorbed in his work that the hour 
until lunch passed quickly. Petriken came in 
from class. Barnes, busy at his work, did not 
perceive him until the youngster was close at 
his elbow. Then he gave a start of surprise. 
Hastily opening the drawer of his desk he 
pushed in the box. But this was not before 
Petriken caught a glimpse of several fancy pins, 
from which the settings had been taken. On the 
study table, lying close by Barnes’ hand as he 
worked, lay a small, silver cuticle knife; an 
article which Petriken knew the fastidious 
Barnes never placed anywhere but on the dress- 
ing table. 




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CHAPTER V. 


German was the last recitation for the after- 
noon. Shatter was present in body; bnt his 
mind was on the spread of the next evening. 
Never before had he seemingly been so atten- 
tive. His text-book was before his eyes, on the 
leaves of which he jotted down what might have 
been suggestions for the succeeding lesson. 

Miss Kronenberg was explaining several Ger- 
man idioms. She was patient and conscientious. 
After her explanation there could be no possible 
reason why even the dullest of the class should 
not understand. 

As she wrote on the wall-slates, and turned to 
the class with her explanation, she perceived 
the absorption of John Shafter. At the sight, 
Fraulein Kronenberg was pleased. This pupil 
had not been one whose interest had been easy 
to hold. Her cheek flushed with pleasure. In 
her own mind she decided to call upon him at 


103 


104 


LITTLE RHODY 


once, to review what she was at that moment 
going over. It was seldom he responded when 
called upon. 

Shatter, wholly oblivions to her glances, con- 
tinued his work. He had finished the substan- 
tials. He had reached what he called the 
‘^extras,” and there he stopped. The question 
with him at that moment was whether two bot- 
tles of olives would be enough. Mentally he ran 
over the list of boys he had invited. Two bot- 
tles ! The idea was ridiculous. They would be 
but the mere suggestion of a taste. He would 
provide liberally. 

His expression at that moment was the un- 
conscious, beatific expression of one who is 
thinking seriously on matters not personal. His 
face was lighting up with relief, with the 
thought that he had disposed of his menu. Sud- 
denly Miss Kronenberg interrupted his train of 
thought. 

‘‘Herr Shatter, what idiomatic expression in 
German would you use when you wish to say 
‘you are wrong T 


LITTLE RHODY 


105 


‘‘You’re off,” said John, whose mind was 
vacillating in a choice between having brick ice- 
cream, or the good old-fashioned kind in 
freezers. 

Fraulein drew up her shoulders stiffly, and 
pressed her lips together. It was a mannerism 
she had when she was intensely angry. The 
class would have burst into a laugh had they not 
stood in awe of Fraulein. So they sat erect, 
keeping their eyes fixed on some point straight 
ahead, not daring to glance at each other, lest 
they lose their self-control. 

“Herr Shatter must in mind bear that here 
we do not speak the language of the streets. It 
is presumed that only ladies and gentlemen in 
the class are. Herr Shatter may excused be, 
until English he knows how to speak,” she said, 
in her jerky nervous way, falling into a German 
arrangement of the sentences. 

For an instant, Shatter had not grasped his 
mistake. He had answered without thinking. 
But Fraulein Kronenberg would be loath to ac- 
cept such an excuse. She would be more ready 


106 


LITTLE RHODY 


to believe he had replied with malice afore- 
thought, thinking himself witty. 

It was no time for explanation or apology. 
Fraulein was too much annoyed to listen. The 
better part was instant obedience. John realized 
this. Hastily collecting his books and tablet, he 
quitted the room. As he departed, he looked 
back at the class. He felt sorry for them. They 
sat up as stiff as so many pokers. 

John’s spirit of contrition did not remain with 
him long. He was no sooner in the corridor 
than his spirits arose. He was out half an hour 
sooner than the other men. Bruce had this 
period vacant. They could start down to the 
city just one-half hour sooner. His walk grew 
a little brisker. As he turned the corner of the 
hall suddenly, he almost bumped into Barnes. 
Barnes drew back haughtily. Bhafter laughed. 

‘ ‘ Oh, I beg your pardon, Barnes. Did I knock 
you off your feet T ’ 

‘Ht’s all right,” said Barnes stiffly. It was 
painfully evident that he was not pleased with 
this chance meeting, nor did he show any indi- 


LITTLE RHODY 


107 


cation that he wished Shatter to linger there. 
He had a roll of bills in his hand. These, as 
Shatter detained him, he rolled into a wad and 
slipped into an inner pocket. 

‘ ‘ Is it true that you won T be here next term 1 ’ ’ 
asked Shatter. 

‘‘No; it is not. I have just settled with the 
Doctor. I shall be here until Christmas at 
least.’’ 

“Well, I’m glad,” said Shatter heartily. 
“We’ll need you. You’re the best man we have 
in football.” 

Waiting no longer, he moved off to his own 
room. Bruce was already there, making the 
place lively, as he always did when he got him- 
self into another suit. 

Shatter stopped on the threshold. He looked 
down on Bruce in affected surprise. 

“Why, my world- wide illuminator,” he said, 
‘ ‘ where did you get those long trousers ? I can ’t 
believe it. Why didn’t you get yourself a nice 
sailor suit? Boys your age are wearing them.” 

“That’s all right,” replied Bruce, pulling his 


108 


LITTLE RHODY 


necktie into place, and viewing himself in the 
mirror. ‘^Understand right here, you don’t see 
me in a pair of knee breeches again — not when 
we go down into town. ’ ’ 

“It won’t do any good,” said Shatter, shak- 
ing his head and speaking in doleful tones. 
“Those trousers don’t look as though they be- 
longed to you. I thought you borrowed a pair 
of your father’s. If we go down town together, 
people will think they belong to me; that I’ve 
just lent them to you. Your tailor, whoever he 
is, must have thought you would grow consider- 
ably the next few weeks. He’s put a nice little 
train over the heels.” 

“All the men down in the city wear them that 
way.” 

“Well, my royal illuminator, when you go 
over the crossings you’ll have to pull them up. 
Haven’t you a monocle and a little sailor hat! 
You’d make such a nice looking ‘ Charley boy. ’ ’ ’ 
“Oh, shut up!” said Bruce, “and come and 
help me find my pin. This four-in-hand always 
wiggles if I don’t stick in a pin.” As he spoke 


LITTLE RHODY 


109 


he threw his ties and handkerchiefs from one 
end of the dresser to the other. Fnding any 
small article among that litter would have been 
almost impossible. Bruce tumbled up his pos- 
sessions in the chiffonier drawer, upset the pin- 
tray, and rummaged in a haphazard manner 
among his papers on the study-table, all the 
while growling and grumbling, and ordering 
Shatter to help him. 

John was accustomed to this method of pro- 
cedure. He did not permit Bruce’s flustering 
to disturb his usual calm. Seating himself side- 
wise on the bed, and embracing his knee with 
both hands, he gazed at his roommate with a 
calmness which, in the face of Bruce’s flurry, 
was exasperating. 

“Have you looked under the bed,” suggested 
Shatter, “or in the water bucket? No? Well, 
I am surprised. I don’t believe you care 
whether those pins are found or not. Where’s 
the box of candy you were getting outside of 
last night ? They may be scintillating there. ’ ’ 

“If you mean to help me find them,” said 


110 


LITTLE RHODY 


Bruce, ‘^1 wish to goodness you’d get at it, in- 
stead of sitting there doing nothing.” 

‘‘Every kind of work demands two kinds of 
effort — brain and muscular. I’ll attend to the 
first. You do beautifully at the second. Every 
muscle in your body is on the go at once. Now, 
my world-wide illuminator, let me give you a 
rule to go by ; always look first in the place you 
are sure it isn’t. There’s where you’ll find it.” 

Bruce gave a final toss to the papers on the 
study-table. “That’s where I was sure I left 
them,” he said. “But I suppose they’re lying 
around loose. I won’t spend any more time 
looking for them now. I wouldn’t lose that little 
clover design for a good bit. The diamonds in 
it were the best that could be bought, good size, 
too. Ever notice them?” 

“Notice them,” repeated Shatter scornfully. 
“Do you think I am blind? You were wearing 
them the first time I saw you. I took you for a 
plate-glass window.” 

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. Taking up his 
hat, he stood waiting for Shatter to move. 


LITTLE RHODY 


111 


not joking,” continued John. ‘‘YouVe 
seen Jew stores where the whole front was a 
plate-glass show-window, with one little dummy 
doing its best to fill it up, and the sign, ‘Step 
inside and see our elegant stock.’ ” 

“If you intend going down town to-day,” be- 
gan Bruce. 

“In one second.” Shatter was on his feet. 
“I want my money first. How much do you 
suppose I’ll need?” 

“Better take it all along. You may see some- 
thing you want.” This was Bruce’s philosophy 
the whole way through. With him it was never 
so much what he needed as what he wanted. 

Shatter pulled out the upper drawer of his 
dresser, thrusting in his hand. He did not 
bother peering into the drawer, for he distinctly 
remembered where he had that morning placed 
the bills. 

Suddenly he leaned forward, pulling the 
drawer out and looking into it. “That’s 
funny,” he said, “I would have sworn that I 
stuck that money in this corner.” 


112 


LITTLE RHODY 


It was now Bruce’s turn to laugh and jeer. 
‘‘Look under the bed, or in your overshoes.” 

“Oh, I know where I put it,” rejoined John. 
“The money’s here all right. It’s only stuck 
somewhere. I’m sure I put it here.” He be- 
gan a more careful examination. He continued 
repeating, as though he needed the suggestion to 
brace himself. “It’s here some place — I ’m sure 
it’s here.” 

“That’s queer,” he said at last. Eemoving 
the drawer, he carried it over to the window. 
Setting it on a stand, and carefully removing 
each article in turn, he shook it thoroughly, and 
laid it aside. 

Bruce with hat in hand came and stood by 
him. Shafter neither spoke nor looked up until 
every article had been removed. 

Then he stood erect, drawing a full breath. 
“It’s gone,” he said, “it’s all up with the 
spread to-morrow night.” 

“Perhaps you didn’t put it there at all.” 

“I know that I did. I always kept my money 
in that drawer. But I’ll go through the place.” 


LITTLE RHODY 


113 


strange what could happen to it. If you 
put it there, it must be there yet. You’ll find it, 
old man, just where you put it.” 

hope so.” Without further words he be- 
gan a systematic search for the money. He 
went through the drawers of the dresser one 
by one. He examined every nook and corner 
where there was a possibility of its falling 
through. 

Climbing on the foot of the bed, Bruce 
began to whistle softly while he watched opera- 
tions. 

^‘Keep an eye open for my pins while you 
hunt,” he suggested. ‘^Really this is easier 
than looking for them myself.” 

Shafter paid no heed. Bruce might as well 
have addressed the Sphinx. 

From dresser to study-table Shafter went. 
So careful was his search that not even a pin 
could have escaped his eye. Then he began on 
the books, taking them down one by one and 
turning the pages. ‘H’ve known people to stick 
bills into books,” he said, may have done 


8 


114 


LITTLE RHODY 


that, yet,’’ with conviction, ‘‘I’m positive that 
I pnt the money in the upper drawer. ” 

“Oh, come on,” pleaded Bruce. “We won’t 
get back in time for supper at the rate we’re 
going now. I’ve money enough.” He pulled 
out his purse. “Here, take this and use it. 
Your money’s bound to turn up somewhere. 
You can settle with me later.” 

Shatter put the protfered purse aside with a 
gesture. “Thank you, old man, but I’d rather 
not borrow. I never like to owe any one — even 
you. My money’s here somewhere and I’ll find 
it or I’ll know where it’s gone to.” He con- 
tinued his search. He did not become excited as 
Bruce would have done, nor did he bluster about 
like that young gentleman. On the contrary, he 
grew calm and methodical in each movement. 
In the midst of his search, a rap came at the 
door, and without waiting for a response, 
Barnes entered, Petriken hobbling after him. 

“Professor Hevner wishes to see you men in 
the Gym,” he said. “They are at a game of 
basket-ball. This is the first time they’ve tried 


LITTLE RHODY 


115 


it this term, and the Prof, wishes some one to 
help play with the new men. ’ ’ 

‘‘We were going down to the city,’’ began 
Brnce. 

“It doesn’t look very much as though I was 
going,” said Shatter. “Watson, can’t yon go 
and explain? Don’t say anything about the 
money to any one. I might find it yet. Come 
in,” to Petriken and Barnes, who yet stood at 
the threshold, “I’ve lost something. I’ll he 
through the search in a moment.” 

“Anything serious?” asked Barnes. He en- 
tered the room as he spoke. Passing to the 
window, he stood facing the boys. He rarely 
sat down when he talked with the men. He 
knew not what it was to be tired or sick. Pet- 
riken followed him, standing as close to his hero 
as he could. 

“Serious?” repeated John, “it begins to look 
a little that way. My father sent me money — 
considerably more than I usually get. I’m posi- 
tive I put it in that upper drawer. But it isn’t 
there now. I’ve gone over the room and I 


116 


LITTLE RHODY 


haven’t been able to find it.” He put the books 
back in their places. He turned toward the 
boys. can’t account for it,” he said. 

‘‘Perhaps some one might have stolen it,” 
ventured Petriken. At this suggestion Shatter 
shook his head. 

‘ ‘ It would be impossible, ’ ’ said Barnes. ‘ ‘ The 
men are not of that class, and the servants have 
been at The Hall for years. I may not admire 
Mrs. Ehen as I might. She has a faculty of 
irritating me; but she’s honest. She would not 
have a servant about her that could not be 
trusted. They were sweeping your room this 
morning. Shatter. Could there be such a thing 
as the money being swept up unnoticed T’ 

“Scarcely. There were five silver dollars. I 
piled them on each other and wrapped them in 
the bills, and the whole thing I stuffed in the 
envelope of the letter father sent me. It was 
too heavy to blow about, or to be swept up with- 
out being noticed.” 

“They have a new sweeper,” began Barnes. 

“Lo, the poor sweeper. She might be care- 


LITTLE RHODY 


117 


less, of course, but Mrs. Ehen follows at her 
heels so closely that she can’t do much dam- 
age.” 

was here when she came in this morning,” 
continued Barnes. He was still standing by the 
window with folded arms, and head erect. 
heard Mrs. Ehen tell her to remove all the rugs 
and sweep the room. It looks very much as 
though she forgot about the sweeping.” He 
nodded his head in the direction of the exposed 
floor under the study-table, where the dust had 
collected thick. 

^^She has entirely new and original methods 
of her own for sweeping. During the first four 
days of the week, the dirt is in the middle of the 
room where we tramp about. Thursdays she 
comes in and runs it into the corners, and gen- 
erally levels it off.” Shatter stretched out his 
arms and continued in dramatic style : 

*‘Lo, the poor sweeper. 

Whose swift flying broom 
Makes you wonder in vain 

What cyclone struck your room.” 


118 


LITTLE RHODY 


yes,’’ continued Barnes. Then he 
paused. He seemed to be considering the ad- 
visability of speaking or remaining silent. He 
hesitated and then began to speak. don’t 
want to suggest the possibility of his doing such 
a thing, but did you know that Bernard was up 
here in your quarters this morning! He came 
in and looked about. When I left he was exam- 
ining that photograph. He seemed quite taken 
by it. He’s peculiar, you know, and seeing the 
money, might have picked it up, not having 
sense enough to realize what he was doing.” 

‘‘He wouldn’t have touched it, had it been 
right before him. He doesn’t know the value 
of money. He won’t go to town. He dresses 
in the old clothes the men here give him. He 
never spends a cent. The Doctor invests his 
salary, so if the time comes when he can’t work 
he’ll have money enough to provide for him. 
Oh, no ; I’d trust Bernard with anything I have. 
Besides, Bruce’s pins have disappeared. I did 
not pay much attention at first, when he men- 
tioned the fact. He’s always muddling up 


LITTLE RHODY 


119 


things, and putting them everywhere but the 
right place. I thought, of course, he’d mislaid 
them. The thing has happened before. But 
this time I think they have disappeared. I 
didn’t see a shadow of them while I hunted, and 
I’ve gone over every part of this room.” 

Petriken could not understand why he did so ; 
but at the mention of the pins being lost, his 
face grew crimson. He gave a quick, furtive 
glance up at Barnes, whose calm was imper- 
turbable. Like a flash there passed before the 
little fellow’s mind the scene of the morning — 
Barnes sitting at his desk where he had un- 
doubtedly been working with the pins which 
lay in the drawer without settings. Suggestions 
forced themselves before his mind. Why did 
Barnes not wish him to see the work he had 
been doing? Why did he so hastily close the 
drawer and lock it? He had never done so 
before. 

These questions came to Petriken ’s mind 
before he was conscious that he was thinking. 
When he did so, he repulsed all such sugges- 


120 


LITTLE RHODY 


tions. As though penitent for the thought he 
had given up to but for a moment, he moved 
closer to him he had maligned in his mind. He 
laid his thin, twisted fingers against his friend’s 
arm, looking up at him with an expression of 
confidence and admiration. Barnes had said he, 
the little fellow, had grit. He would show them 
that he had. The other men might think as they 
pleased. He would believe in Barnes. That 
was the position he would take and nothing 
would move him. 

“Do you mean his diamonds?” asked Barnes. 
“They’re all right. You’ll find them some- 
where. They were here this morning when I 
came in. Let me look here.” He crossed the 
room to Bruce’s table. “They were lying loose 
here. I picked them up and put them in the 
pin-tray. Not a very good place for diamond 
pins, I must say. But I thought, at least, it 
would be a safer place than lying among the 
papers.” He took up the tray. It was filled 
with odds and ends of collar buttons and bent 
pins, but the diamonds were not among them. 


LITTLE RHODY 


121 


‘‘Bruce must have taken them,’^ he said at 
last, recovering from his surprise. ‘ ‘ They were 
there shortly before noon.’’ 

“ No ; he didn ’t take them, ’ ’ said Shatter. ‘ ‘ I 
can vouch for that. It looks very much as 
though we were out so much. There ’s no doubt 
now in my mind, since you say you saw the 
pins there this morning, that some one has 
been in here. Some one we haven’t especially 
invited.” 

“I’d keep an eye to Bernard,” said Barnes. 
‘ ‘ The fellow is not accountable. If he has taken 
them it wouldn’t be as though he were right.” 

“It isn’t Bernard,” said Shatter with dogged 
persistence. “ I ’ll vouch for Bernard. ’ ’ 

As though the use of his name had conjured 
up the man, Bernard’s form appeared in the 
doorway. If, by chance, he were the guilty 
party, he was not overcome with a sense of his 
shame. His eyes were uncertain, and bewild- 
ered in expression ; but his face was one broad 
grin. 

“The Doctor is wanting Mr. Barnes,” he 


122 


LITTLE EHODY 


chuckled. can’t find him in the Gym, and 
his room is locked.” 

‘‘He’s here,” said Shatter. 

Barnes came from the back of the room. 
“I’ll go down at once, Bernard. Thank you,” 
he said, never forgetting to be courteous. 
He quitted the room, going into the office to see 
what Dr. Weldon wished. 

Bernard stood at the door a moment, gazing 
into the room. Then he shuffled himself across 
the threshold with a backward glance in the 
direction Barnes had taken. 

“I wouldn’t have come in if Mr. High Cocko- 
lorum, Mr. Boss-of-the-Eoost had been here. 
He said once that people like Bernard shouldn’t 
run loose, and that’s one thing Bernard Clark 
is never going to forget.” Crossing the room, 
he stood before the picture he had so much ad- 
mired in the morning. “That isn’t right,” he 
said shaking his head from side to side and 
letting his lower jaw fall. “It isn’t right.” 

“How should it be, Bernard T’ Shatter never 
let the poor fellow’s slightest remark pass un- 


LITTLE RHODY 


123 


noticed. His strength made him tender to the 
poor, demented creature. 

Bernard stretched out his arms straight from 
his sides. ‘‘Big, bigger even than that,’’ he 
said, ‘‘and all gay colors.” 

“Like the clown’s dress in the circus last 
weekr’ asked Petriken, the clown’s attire being 
the most striking combination of colors that the 
mind of man could conceive. 

But such was not Bernard’s idea. Some- 
where in his mind was a faint conception of the 
rich colorings which marked the original. So 
faint was the impression, and so limited his 
vocabulary, that he could not put his idea into 
words. He shook his head in negation of Petri- 
ken ’s speech. “No; it was no circus clown’s 
colors. They were not so — so — , ’ ’ he rummaged 
about in his brain for a word to express what he 
meant, “so — hot.” 

Blue as Shatter felt, he could not suppress 
a smile. 

“I never heard of colors being hot,’ he said. 
“Haven’t you got that a little mixed?” 


124 


LITTLE EHODY 


‘ ‘ No, ’ ’ Bernard chuckled. ‘ ‘ The circus colors 
are hot — like a fire that youVe poured coal-oil 
on, but these colors are like the coals in the 
Doctor’s grate.” He laughed aloud and grinned 
at Shatter. 

guess you are all right after all, Bernard. 
That’s just about the difference. But where 
did you see a picture like this?” 

Bernard’s jaw fell. The broad grin left his 
countenance. He looked perplexed, and wor- 
ried. He rubbed the side of his head vigorously. 

saw — I saw it — somewhere. I can’t re- 
member. It was spread out so!” he stretched 
his arms as before. ‘‘A fine old man just like 
the Doctor was looking at it, and a boy, no big- 
ger than Mr. Watson, and — ” 

There his memory left him. He looked up 
again at the boys with that piteous expression. 
Shaking his head from side to side, he turned 
and quitted the room. 

^Ht’s odd Bruce doesn’t come back,” said 
Shatter. ^‘He can’t be helping in that Gym 
work for he wasn’t dressed for playing. It 


LITTLE RHODY 


125 


doesn’t matter though, for even though I had 
the money, it is too late now to go down to the 
city, and get back before dark.” 

Petriken was surprised at the manner in 
which Shafter took his loss. He neither be- 
wailed nor fidgeted. 

“I’d get all worked up,” he said, “if I should 
lose so much money. But you do not seem to 
mind it in the least.” 

^ ^ What ’s the use of fussing ? It won ’t do any- 
thing toward bringing it back. I’m trying to 
think who might have helped themselves. 
Everyone knew I had the money. I’ve a way of 
spouting everything I know.” 

“Last summer when we were on the farm, 
we had some money stolen,” said Petriken. “I 
slept in a down-stairs bedroom, and someone 
came in through the window. But we discov- 
ered later that it was a tramp.” 

“It’s no tramp in this case,” said Shafter. 
“There’s no way of reaching these windows 
from below. We’re the last room in the hall. 
Besides a tramp would be compelled to pass 


126 


LITTLE EHODY 


the recitation rooms and twenty or more bed- 
rooms before he reached here. It was no tramp. 
It is no use of hunting further. Let us look for 
Watson.’’ 

They left the room, turning in the direction 
of the main portion of the building. 

Barnes, meanwhile, had gone to the office. 
Here he found Dr. Weldon, but not alone. Half 
a dozen students, for the most part new men, 
were standing about, all more or less excited. 
Among them was Harry Lloyd, a youth so im- 
maculate in appearance and so effeminate in 
taste that he was called by the students ‘‘Miss 
Lloyd.” He was a fastidious youth. A book 
misplaced upon his study-table caused him more 
annoyance than the smashing of the Decalogue. 
He had been a student at The Hall for two full 
years. He was now entering upon his third 
year. During the whole of that time, he had 
never been marked for carelessness or forget- 
ting his keys. He had no need of the master- 
key. His laundry was always ready on the 
minute, and he was never seen hurrying 


LITTLE RHODY 


127 


through the hall in the early morning, tying his 
four-in-hand, or adjusting his collar, doing his 
best to reach the dining-room before the doors 
closed. He was not bright in his classes, and 
knew nothing about athletics. He had never 
been a popular youth at The Hall ; but when the 
other men discovered that he sat on the front 
steps, poring over the pages of a woman’s 
magazine while their football team was playing 
with the ‘‘Sems,” his fate in school was settled. 
He was ‘‘Miss Lloyd” from that time on, and 
the boys never came across a fashion plate but 
they handed it to him, with an air of courtesy 
that was exasperating. 

This “Miss Lloyd” was excitedly addressing 
Dr. Weldon, who, with a patient air of resigna- 
tion, sat listening to the hurried and incoherent 
flow of talk. Harry was too mildly “ladylike” 
to be strong in the expression of his opinion; 
he repeated, and grew confused and mumbled 
his words, and when he had finished, nothing 
at all had been said. 

When Barnes, strong and erect as young 


128 


LITTLE RHODY 


Hercules, entered, Dr. Weldon interrupted 
Lloyd’s chatter. 

‘^One moment, if you please, Mr. Lloyd. Let 
me speak to Mr. Barnes.” John approached 
the desk and stood waiting. 

‘‘Mr. Barnes,” said Dr. Weldon, “did you 
ask permission to use the master-key, some 
weeks agoT’ 

His voice kept always a gentle, even tone. 
One characteristic of the man was serenity. 
His manner was always calm, a calnmess which 
told of power rather than weakness. 

“Yes, Dr. Weldon.” 

“Do you remember what you did with it 
then?” 

The boy pondered a moment, and then looked 
up into his interrogator’s face. 

“I never thought of the key until this mo- 
ment. I remember about using it. I don’t 
clearly remember, but I have the impression 
that I quitted my room to return to the office. 
But I really could not say.” He looked up to 


LITTLE RHODY 


129 


the ring on the wall where the key always hung 
when not in use. It was empty. 

‘‘Has it never been used since thenT’ asked 
Barnes in surprise. 

“It has not been needed. The housekeeper 
has a master-key for her own use, which she 
does not allow out of her possession. There has 
been no request for the key, which should be in 
the office. I never thought of the matter until 
to-day, when it was forced on my notice.^’ 

“I am sorry. Dr. Weldon,’’ said Barnes, “I 
was careless. Could I have the key replaced?” 

“I am responsible in this matter equally with 
you,” returned the Doctor, who was just in all 
matters, even though they were trivial. “I 
should have immediately called your attention 
to the absence of the key. Your memory would 
not have failed you then.” 

“If he’d replaced the key, I’d had my money 
now. It don’t seem right that I should lose all 
that. It’s all the spending money I’ll get until 
the Christmas holidays,” whined Lloyd. 

“Be careful, Mr. Lloyd. It is well not to ex- 

9 


130 


LITTLE RHODY 


press your opinion until you are asked.’’ Dr. 
Weldon turned to John Barnes. ‘‘Mr. Lloyd 
has missed some money from his room — quite a 
considerable amount, he tells me. Of course, 
there is always the possibility of its being mis- 
placed. Young men are careless.” 

“But it’s gone,” cried Lloyd, turning out his 
lips into a pout. “Brenizer saw me put it in my 
purse, and put the purse in the drawer of my 
table. That was this morning after breakfast.” 
Brenizer who was one who had come as a sup- 
port to Lloyd, while he told his story, nodded 
his head in affirmation. 

“And I locked my door. I always do,” con- 
tinued Lloyd with his tale of woe. At this state- 
ment, the entire six nodded their heads, and 
murmured in voices husky with embarrassment, 
‘ ‘ Yes ; he did. He always does. Doctor. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Yes ; we know that Mr. Lloyd is careful. He 
is always that,” said the Doctor. “But even 
the most careful may forget some time. No one 
is infallible. I thought there might be a possi- 


LITTLE RHODY 


131 


bility of your having placed the money some- 
where else/^ 

At this Lloyd shook his head from side to side, 
and the six long-legged, spindling youths about 
him did likewise. 

‘‘No; I looked everywhere. We even swept 
up the floor, but it was nowhere to be found.’’ 

“Nowhere to be found,” responded Brenizer 
in husky afiirmation. 

“This is the first time in the history of The 
Hall that such a possibility has ever been sug- 
gested. The students who come here are gentle- 
men born and bred. There is no one here at 
the present time whose income is not in excess 
of his needs. The servants have been here for 
years. Their interest is wrapped up in the 
school. We take in no strangers, either as 
students or servants. The matter may clear 
itself. The best way is to say little about the 
matter for a time. If it has been misplaced, 
we will be saved explanations ; if some one has 
carried it off, we may be able to detect that per- 
son. We shall say nothing of the matter, Mr. 


132 


LITTLE RHODY 


Lloyd, for the present. Drop the subject from 
your minds. Turn your attention to other mat- 
ters. If the money has been taken, I shall see 
that you are not the loser.” 

He dismissed the boys. Barnes stood waiting 
until the others had quitted the room, then he 
addressed Dr. Weldon. ‘‘I thought it well not 
to mention the subject while the other men were 
present; but Lloyd is not the only one who has 
missed money. Shatter is short a roll of bills 
which he put in a drawer this morning, and 
Watson cannot find his diamond pins.” 

“I am not surprised that Mr. Watson cannot 
find his diamonds. I only wonder that he has 
not lost them before. But this about Mr. Shat- 
ter is unexpected. Has he looked over his room 
thoroughly?” 

Barnes repeated the story; how he had seen 
the pins there less than an hour before dinner ; 
who had been in the room; and in fact every 
little detail leading up to the affair. It was not 
his intention to implicate anyone, even by so 
much as a suggestion. But unconsciously he be- 


LITTLE RHODY 


133 


trayed his own suspicions. When Barnes fin- 
ished his recital, it was evident that in his own 
mind Bernard Clark was the guilty party, and 
yet not guilty, in one sense of the word, for the 
man was not a rational creature. 

‘‘I am loath to think that anything is stolen. 
One should be positive before making a state- 
ment of that kind. Some innocent person may 
suffer even though it be no more than being 
misjudged in someone’s mind. The men in No. 
10 are not the most orderly people. There 
might be the possibility of the money and pins 
being mislaid. It is best to make no mention 
of their loss imtil we are confident that it is a 
loss. It would be embarrassing both to Mr. 
Shatter and Mr. Watson if, after raising a hub- 
bub about the matter, they should find their pos- 
sessions where they had left them.” 

Barnes was convinced in his own mind that 
the money had been taken. He told Dr. Weldon 
what a thorough search Shatter had made of the 
room, and where he himself had placed the pins 
but a few hours before. There really seemed no 


134 


LITTLE RHODY 


way out of the matter except by accepting as a 
fact that someone had stolen them. 

‘‘Well, if these articles and money have been 
taken, one person must be guilty of both thefts. 
Whoever entered Mr. Lloyd’s room made use 
of the master-key. We must discover its where- 
abouts first. I believe finding that will settle 
the question. I regret, Mr. Barnes, that you 
are not able to account for the key.” 

As he spoke, Petriken, Shatter and Watson 
entered to inform the Doctor of the loss. Wat- 
son was blustering about, and making the most 
possible confusion. Shatter had lost his jaunty, 
happy-go-lucky air. He was concerned about 
his loss. He meant to discover where his money 
went. Of the three, Petriken alone caught the 
Doctor’s words, “I am sorry you are not able 
to account for the key.” He had heard Lloyd’s 
account of someone entering his room. Quick 
as a fiash, Petriken ’s mind connected the two. 
In spite of his resolution to be true to Barnes, 
and believe in him, the heart of the youngster 
failed him. 


CHAPTER VI. 

Mrs. Rhen, when she learned that Mr. Barnes 
had forgotten about the master-key, and knew 
not whether he had returned it, shrugged her 
shoulders and gave a sniff suggestive of dis- 
belief. 

‘‘Mr. Barnes is not one who easily forgets,’^ 
she said to Dr. Weldon. “Indeed, his memory is 
remarkably lucid on other points farther re- 
moved in point of time than the key episode; 
nor is he careless. It surely is unexplainable 
that he should let a matter about which all the 
students have been frequently cautioned pass 
from his mind.’’ 

Mrs. Rhen might have said much more, had 
the opportunity been given her. She would have 
passed from mere suggestions to plain state- 
ments, had not Dr. Weldon cautioned her 
135 


136 


LITTLE RHODY 


against expressing her opinion on a subject of 
which she knew nothing. 

But this much she did do : she related to Dr. 
Weldon what she had seen in Eoom 10 — Mr. 
Barnes standing by the dresser, with the dia- 
mond pins in his hand. She and one or more of 
the servant girls had been employed in that part 
of the building all the morning. No one could 
have passed through the corridors without being 
seen by them. She was confident that no one 
except Bernard and Mr. Barnes had gone 
through. 

Her statement about seeing Barnes with the 
pins in his hands in no way reflected against 
him. Barnes, himself, had spoken of picking 
them up and putting them in a more suitable 
place. 

But Mrs. Ehen in her talk did tell Dr. Weldon 
two facts which were new to him. One was, that 
Mrs. Barnes had become bankrupt by the failure 
of the Tannery Company; and another, that 
John Barnes because of this had been on the 
point of leaving The Hall. 


LITTLE RHODY 


137 


Dr. Weldon would not harbor a suspicion 
against the boy. He dismissed Mrs. Ehen with 
the suggestion that she was to discuss the sub- 
ject with no one. 

So two people were watching Barnes’ every 
movement, but with different motives — ^Petriken 
in the hope that something might occur to dispel 
the shadow of suspicion which clouded his mind ; 
Mrs. Ehen in the hope that his actions would 
justify her suspicion. 

A change had taken place in Bernard. He 
was no more the trusted man-of -all- work about 
the place. He was growing erratic to such an 
extent that the Doctor was considering the ad- 
visability of having him removed to an institu- 
tion where he could be looked after. So far, he 
had been perfectly harmless. He had formed a 
habit of entering the dormitory halls; a thing 
he had never done in previous years. Several 
times Bruce and Shafter had found him in their 
room standing before the picture which had at- 
tracted him from the first. He always went 
through a long monologue about its being too 


138 


LITTLE RHODY 


small, and not of the proper coloring. No two 
boys, except Shatter and Watson, would have 
stood these intrusions which came at the most 
inopportune times. They managed, by dint of 
coaxing and the judicious use of flattery, to get 
the poor man from the room and back to his 
work, without anyone else being the wiser. 

Watson, who acted more upon impulse than 
Shatter, suggested that they should speak to 
Dr. Weldon concerning Bernard. But Shatter 
would not entertain the idea for a moment. 

“Do you know what they would do with 
himT’ he asked one day, after Watson had 
brought forth strong arguments in favor of in- 
forming Dr. Weldon of Bernard’s peculiar 
actions. ‘ ‘ They would shut him up in what they 
call the State Hospital. He couldn’t roam 
around then and hunt weeds.' He’d be little less 
than a prisoner. No; old man, we’ll stand his 
butting in on us for a while longer. It may be 
that he isn’t well and that makes him act so. He 
may be like himself in the course of a week or 
so.” 


LITTLE RHODY 


139 


So Dr. Weldon received no outside informa- 
tion that the poor half-witted fellow was prov- 
ing an annoyance to half the students in school. 
But he himself noticed a change in Bernardos 
expression. Where before there had been dull- 
ness, there was now a ferocity in the eyes, a 
tense expression as though he was either suffer- 
ing intensely, or was going through some mental 
struggle. He had discovered, too, that the 
man’s thoughts were on times long past. 

Prior to this, Bernard had had no memory 
except for very recent events. The fires, the 
errands, the carrying of the mail, had wholly 
absorbed him. He had made no comment nor 
asked questions on what was past, nor what was 
to come. His admiration for everything con- 
nected with the school was great. Barnes had 
always treated him with a condescending man- 
ner. Consequently, he disliked Barnes. With 
this exception, he would have willingly given up 
his life for the men at The Hall. Now he sur- 
prised Dr. Weldon with the questions he asked. 

‘^Do you know this office of yours is not 


140 


LITTLE RHODY 


right r’ he asked one day, pausing in his occupa- 
tion of cleaning the windows. He was standing 
on the window sill. He turned around to look 
at the Doctor. 

‘ ‘Indeed said the Doctor. “I have always 
found it comfortable.’’ 

“It may be all that,” replied Bernard, cun- 
ningly wagging his head and looking at the Doc- 
tor from the corner of his eyes. “But it hain’t 
right. There shouldn’t be all this bright paper. 
The office walls used to be all dark wood, smoked 
black, clear to the ceiling. That was wood, too, 
with the timbers showing; and the windows!” 
he chuckled, “I’m glad I didn’t have to clean 
them. They had lots of little glasses in them. 
They didn’t push up either, but swung out like 
doors. And over there,” pointing to the op- 
posite wall, “was a painted picture of a man in 
soldier ’s clothes. ’ ’ 

“You have forgotten, Bernard. The office 
was always as you see it now.” 

Bernard shook his head. “ No, it wasn ’t, ’ ’ he 
said with decision. “All the time I knew some- 


LITTLE RHODY 


141 


thing was wrong, but it wasn’t until this morn- 
ing that I saw how it used to be. I didn’t clean 
windows. I wore a coat — a long one down to my 
heels, and I’d catch it, so.” He strode across 
the floor, his hand catching at imaginary gar- 
ments. His attitude brought to the Doctor’s 
mind pictures of college men in their caps and 
gowns. 

^^Very well, then. But Bernard, what about 
the windows? You would not have me in an 
office with dirty windows.” 

“Well, I rather guess not. I’ll make them 
shine.” He went back to his work, forgetting 
his flitting fancy of the old office. 

Dr. Weldon’s pencil continued putting its 
fatal blue marks against the list of pupils 
whose recitations had not come up to the stand- 
ard set by the school. Yet his thoughts reverted 
again and again to Bernard’s words. Like a 
half-remembered dream he, too, saw a dark 
office, rich with its carved wood ceilings and 
walls. But the picture faded from him, as soon 
as he tried to place it. 


142 


LITTLE RHODY 


After chapel on Saturday mornings, the men 
took long runs across the country, tramps of ten 
and fifteen miles, returning tired and happy, in 
time for a midday lunch. The Union met, in 
private sessions, later in the day. The place 
of meeting was variable, and possessed the 
charm of being secret. Those to whom mem- 
bership had not been granted — Petriken among 
the number — followed with eager eyes the de- 
parture of the boys. Their very membership 
proclaimed them as leaders in some way. 

On such occasions Petriken could not go with 
the men, even so far as the triangle. The Union 
was one and inseparable, and permitted no 
hangers-on. Although his feet could not follow, 
his eyes did. He watched the men eagerly, wist- 
fully, until they disappeared from view behind 
the trees which skirted the outer edge of the 
campus. 

Beading was denied him as being too con- 
fining. Physical effort was not to be thought of. 
He walked up and down the campus until his 
arm was sore from his crutch. Then he sought 


LITTLE RHODY 


143 


out Bernard, having in mind to be careful what 
subject of conversation he brought up. But 
even this source of interest was denied him, for 
the little shop in the basement was closed. He 
sat down on the steps to wait his return, for the 
man was never absent for any great length of 
time. But this afternoon everything was at 
sixes and sevens with Petriken. He sat on the 
cold stone steps fully half an hour, yet Bernard 
did not appear. He spent another half hour in 
hobbling about the campus, watching for the re- 
turn of Barnes and the other men. He turned 
up his coat collar about his ears. The day was 
chilly enough for an extra coat. But Barnes 
and the other men were not wearing overcoats 
yet, and Petriken was not going to prove more 
susceptible to cold than they. Though shiver- 
ing, he kept bravely on. He had no desire to 
coddle or to make a baby of himself. When it 
came to grit, he had sufficient for a dozen boys 
his size. 

The campus had lost all which during the 
early fall had made it beautiful. The am- 


lU 


LITTLE RHODY 


pelopsis which then had covered the building 
was now leafless. The trees, too, were colorless. 
Even the grass had faded into a lifeless mat, 
which dulled rather than brightened the scene. 

Petriken watched for the men’s return until, 
in the gathering twilight, he was scarcely able 
to distinguish objects. At last, he heard their 
cry from over the hills. He joined in as lustily 
as he could. What he lacked in strength, he 
made up in enthusiasm. 

Soon they appeared on the brow of the hill, 
a dozen tired, dirty men, ready for a scrub and 
a meal. Claude brought up the rear with Shat- 
ter a step or two in advance, who was swinging 
along, lazily good-natured, smiling and easy. 

Shatter had, in a measure, forgotten his loss. 
He was his old gay self. A new guitar which 
he carried over his arm, and on which he had 
learned to pick out a few chords, had been ab- 
sorbing all his time which was not devoted to 
lessons. His songs were frequently of his own 
composing and suited to the time and place. 
He was strumming as he walked, singing in a 
voice which needed oiling. 


LITTLE EHODY 


145 


“Prof. Wilbur had a little class, 

Whose minds were soft — like s-n-o-w — o-o. 

And though they studied geometry-ef-e 
They couldu’t make it go — ok)/' 

Where does it hurt the worst? asked 
Claude with his accustomed good-natured laugh. 

‘‘It^s not hurting me now,” was the response. 
‘‘Yesterday was the day I was sore. Prof. 
Wilbur always loses his temper when a man 
can’t see everything at a glance. How was I 
to know what the projection of a line on a sur- 
face means? I’d never met the thing before.” 
His fingers touched the strings again. Flinging 
back his head and affecting a swagger as he 
walked, he sang out : 

“He had never heard of a project, you know; 

They didn’t grow up his way. 

When Prof, presented them to the class, 

Shatter didn’t have much to say— a-a. 

He hadn’t a word to say. 

And when Prof, bade him speak right up 
His heart went pit-a-pat; 

It wasn't because he was dull, you know; 

He was just as shy as that, 

As awfully shy as that.” 

“Come on, Petriken,” he called out in the 


10 


146 


LITTLE RHODY 


middle of his song. ‘'I'm going to see Bernard 
about doing some work for me. I've told him 
half a dozen times, but he don't seem to remem- 
ber. There's going to be trouble. Better come 
along." 

The other men strode away across the cam- 
pus, clapping their hands in time to the song, 
and shouting at the top of their lungs : 

“Whenever Shafter recites, you know, 

His heart goes pit-a-pat; 

It isn’t because he’s dull, you know. 

But he’s just as shy as that — 

As awfully shy as that.” 

“Bernard isn't about anywhere," said Petri- 
ken, hobbling after Shafter as fast as he was 
able. 

“Oh, yes, he is, my youngster. I saw him 
sliding along the edge of the campus as we came 
up." 

He strode on ahead, hurling his words over 
his shoulder at Petriken. He turned as he 
reached the steps leading down to Bernard's 
shop. He called back to Petriken, “Don't 


LITTLE RHODY 


147 


bother trying to get down those steps. I’ll see 
whether he’s in. No use of yon taking the 
trouble if he isn’t.” 

With that he sprang down the stairs, three 
steps at a time. The light had been turned 
on in the workshop. The door was closed, but 
the upper half, for the better lighting of the 
room, was of glass. This gave Shafter a view 
of the room as he ran down the stairs. Bernard 
was sitting on the table, his hands filled with a 
roll of bills, which, for safe-keeping, he was try- 
ing to tie up within a handkerchief. This sur- 
prised Shafter. For he knew for a certainty 
that the Doctor took care of Bernard’s money 
for him, only giving him what was necessary for 
his needs. His wants were few. He had shown 
no appreciation of money values. Now as he 
tried to count the bills he became confused. 

These thoughts flashed through Shafter ’s 
mind, the moment he saw the half-witted fellow 
sitting there, making an effort to count the 
money. He remembered, too, Barnes’ sugges- 
tion about Bernard being responsible for his 


148 


LITTLE RHODY 


own and Bruce’s loss. For the first time, Shaf- 
ter was inclined to believe that such a thing 
might he true. Bernard might have taken the 
money without thought that he was doing 
wrong. Giving a hasty knock, Shatter entered 
the room without giving Bernard time to move. 
Bernard was not confused by his entrance. He 
tied the end of the handkerchief about the bills 
and then turned to speak to Shatter. His man- 
ner was that of one who is innocent in inten- 
tions, if not in deeds. He chuckled softly. His 
mouth opened. His jaw fell. He wagged his 
head from side to side. 

heard you coming down the steps, but of 
course I didn’t know it was you. I thought it 
might be your friend, the Shah of Persia. Don’t 
he carry his head high! Is the little fellow with 
you! Why didn’t he come along! He’s a 
gentleman, if ever there was one.” 

“You’re right, Bernard. But he’s waiting 
up-stairs for me. I came down here to see when 
you intend making my book shelves. Those old 


LITTLE RHODY 


149 


ones are really causing me a heap of trouble, 
Bernard. ’ ’ 

‘^That isn’t my name. I’m Doctor Clark, 
Doctor Bernard Clark. That is, I think I am.” 

“All right,” was Shatter’s good-natured re- 
sponse. “I’ll call you Doctor. But what’s this, 
Bernard — this old handkerchief filled with 
money?” 

As they talked Shatter had moved closer to 
the table. He took up the handerchief with its 
treasure. He looked it over critically. He was 
not surprised to find it marked with Bruce’s 
name. 

“This belongs up in our room, Bernard. 
Where did you come across it?” 

“Over there,” he wagged his head in direc- 
tion of two small shelves on which were ar- 
ranged the smaller articles of his craft. “I 
found it there.” 

“Yes; but before that. You must have put 
it there, you know. ’ ’ 

“Oh, yes. I put it there,” wagging his head 
from side to side. ^ ‘ I put it there. ’ ’ 


150 


LITTLE RHODY 


Where did you get it — the money, I mean? 

I don’t suppose Bruce will worry much about 
the handkerchief. But — the money?” 

The old, perplexed, uncertain look came to 
Bernard’s face. should know — but I don’t. 

Sometimes,” pathetically, ‘‘I almost remember 
a great many things — then they go somewhere. 
Sometimes — I almost know — almost.” He was 
working himself into a frenzy. “Do you ever 
feel that way? Do you almost know — and then 
don ’t ? Do you get angry when you can ’t ? ” 

“Why, yes. We all forget. But it’s nothing 
to get angry at. The best way is just to laugh, 
and say we don’t care, when what we try to 
remember goes oif somewhere. But about the 
money, Bernard. What do you mean to do 
with it?” 

“Tie it up,” grinning as though he had solved 
a problem of great importance. 

“You don’t intend going to town to spend 
it?” 

Bernard shuddered. His eyes dilated. He 
looked around half afraid. Then bending over 



“This belongs up in our room 











LITTLE RHODY 


151 


close to Shatter, whispered, ‘‘Don’t mention it 
to any one that I told yon. Bnt it isn’t safe to 
go to town. That’s where the engines are.” 

Then, too late. Shatter remembered that some 
subjects of conversation were forbidden with 
Bernard. 

“What would you say to my taking the money 
and keeping it? Will you give it to me?” 

At this Bernard shook his head from side to 
side. “No; Mr. Shatter, I can’t let you take 
it. If it was all my own, I’d let you have it at 
once — ^but it isn’t mine.” 

“Whose is it, Bernard?” 

“I don’t know. I was to give it to someone. 
Someone gave it to me, and told me to give it 
to someone else. It was all tied up in a box. It 
wasn’t like that. But I forgot where I was to 
take it and who gave it to me.” 

The poor fellow was growing confused with 
the questioning. It was well for him that his 
interlocutor was interrupted by Petriken calling 
down to ask if he meant to stay there all night, 
and if he knew they would be compelled to hurry 


162 


LITTLE RHODY 


if they meant to clean np for snpper. Shafter 
turned aside and went up the steps to join Pet- 
riken. 

Not for one instant did he believe Bernard’s 
story of someone giving him the money. He 
had taken it, of course — without purpose or in- 
tention of using it — and had forgotten where it 
had come from. Shafter had been a student at 
The Hall for two years previous to this. He 
had known Bernard as a most faithful man. 
But this term he had been different. He was 
erratic, untrustworthy. If matters continued 
as they were, the poor fellow could not be 
trusted about the building. There would be but 
one place open to him — the asylum. The 
thought of such a life for poor Bernard, who 
loved the air, made Shafter shudder. He knew, 
if he reported to Dr. Weldon the scene he had 
witnessed, an investigation must follow, and 
that meant Bernard’s removal. It meant, too, 
the return of the money Shafter had lost. 

The intensity with which Shafter ’s mind was 
working' made his manner brusque. 


LITTLE RHODY 


158 


‘‘Come on, youngster,” he said to Petriken, 
striding on without so much as a glance to see 
if the little fellow was safe down from his perch 
on the balustrade. Ambitious not to be outdone, 
Petriken kept close at his heels. 

Suddenly Shatter turned, and with a gesture 
as though he was tossing something from him, 
cried out, “Bother the money! What does a 
few dollars amount to any way!” 

“Have you lost more money!” inquired Pet- 
riken. 

“No; I haven’t. It’s just the other way. I 
think I’ve found mine — but I don’t want it. Let 
me tell you something, youngster. Sit down 
here a moment on the porch. We’ll have time 
enough to tumble in at the supper table. I’ve 
never missed a meal in three years, although 
I’ve had some hair-breadth escapes — just came 
near enough to missing it to make your blood 
run cold. 

“I’m going to tell you what I saw down- 
stairs. But don’t tell Barnes. He’d think I 
ought to go at once and report it to the office. 


154 


LITTLE RHODY 


I don’t intend to do that. It’s my money and if 
I choose to lose it, it’s no one’s fault but my 
own. Perhaps you can give me a few points 
about helping poor old Bernard.” 

Petriken drew himself up, trying to look as 
big as possible. He drew closer to Shatter, and 
measured him with his eye. 

This was one of the greatest events in Pet- 
riken ’s school life. Shatter, a third year man, 
an athlete, a member of the Union, was about to 
confide in him, and had actually proceeded so 
far as to say he might give him a few points. 
He settled himself on the stone parapet, letting 
his crutch drop at his side. He straightened up 
his poor deformed shoulders, trying to make 
them look as strong as possible. He looked up 
into John’s face, eager to drink in every word 
the senior man uttered. 

When Shatter did not at once begin his re- 
cital, Petriken encouraged him with, “Well?” 

Then John began his story. When he spoke 
of Bernard being seen with the money, Petriken 
cried out, in relief and surprise. He was glad 


LITTLE RHODY 


155 


that his own mind was free of any suspicions 
of Barnes. 

‘‘What are you glad about T’ asked Shafter. 
“You seemed pleased to know that that poor 
‘daffy’s’ guilty.” 

“I am glad that it frees any of our men from 
the imputation. I’ve never been easy for a mo- 
ment since your money was taken. It made me 
uncomfortable to think there was a man among 
us that could not be trusted. It would be mighty 
hard for his mother and sisters if a man would 
be sent home in disgrace. ’ ’ 

“It will be a good deal harder on poor Clark 
when this is found out. He has no home to be 
sent to, and no one but the Doctor to care where 
he is. But, of course, the Doctor can’t keep him 
here if he’s going to act this way. He’ll be 
sent to an asylum, that’s all. But that will be 
enough to set the poor fellow raving crazy. 
If only he could be some place where he’d be 
quiet, and people would be gentle with him. 
That sick spell he had this fall — ^you remember 
we went for the doctor — seems to have broken 


166 


LITTLE RHODY 


him up. I thought you might suggest some way 
to help him. Don’t speak of the matter to 
Barnes. I have reasons for not wishing him to 
know anything at all about this.” 

Then, as though he feared Petriken might 
misunderstand his words, he added, ‘^Barnes is 
so big and strong, and everything has always 
come his way, that he can’t understand how a 
fellow feels when he’s down on his luck. That 
is all.” 

Petriken was more than willing to help in 
any way that was for the good of Bernard. In 
a measure, he held himself accountable for the 
man’s sudden fit of frenzy. He had been talk- 
ing to Bernard on subjects which had been 
tabooed from the first by Dr. Weldon. 

‘Hf I were home. Shatter, I’d take him down 
there a spell; or even if the house were open, 
he could go down without me. We’ve a good 
big place— on the edge of town, but just like the 
country. We could find enough to keep him 
busy, doing odd jobs. But the whole place is 
closed. My brothers are all otf somewhere. 


LITTLE RHODY 


157 


busy with their work. I never had any sisters, 
and my mother was sick all the time, ever since 
I was a baby. The horses ran off one day, and 
threw her from the carriage. She never walked 
after that, and when I came, I wasn’t — wasn’t 
very strong.” 

^‘Is your mother down there now?” asked 
Shafter, in as indifferent and careless voice as 
he could command. He had a horror of tears, 
which he thought unmanly. Although his voice 
was husky, he asked the question much as he 
would have said, There may be snow to-mor- 
row.” 

‘‘No; she di — she went away just a year ago. 
My aunt who always kept house for us is in 
Europe. That’s the only reason that my 
brothers allowed me to be here. I couldn’t be 
alone down home. In the spring, the place will 
be opened again. Then I’ll see he’s there, if 
he can’t stay here.” 

“A pretty good idea. But it’s a good many 
months yet until spring. Meanwhile, some- 


158 


LITTLE RHODY 


thing’s got to be done for Bernard, if this is 
found out about him.” 

Shatter swung himself down. Petriken, 
crutch in hand, imitated him faithfully, move- 
ment for movement, depending on his crutch 
instead of his feet. 

‘‘Well,” he said, as they traversed the long 
portico to the entrance door, “I’ve a host of 
friends that might help me out, if the worst 
comes to the worst. There’s an old friend of 
my father’s down here in the valley — not a 
dozen miles away. He’s my guardian.” 

“But you must always remember that Ber- 
nard won’t stay where there are engines or 
trolleys. He goes wild at the name of them.” 

“Yes; I know that well enough. But he 
won’t hear anything like that at Doctor Peirce’s. 
The Doctor is an old man. My father went to 
school with him. He’s fond of flowers — ^has big 
hot-houses, just for the fun of raising plants. 
I doubt if you can take a weed or root to him, 
that he cannot tell you what it is and give you 


LITTLE RHODY 


159 


a whole list of medicines that are made from 

“Is he a doctor of medicine, or one like Dr. 
Weldon?” 

“He^s both. He has all kinds of degrees. He 
studied surgery in Berlin. He used to do that 
sort of work entirely, but he’s getting too old 
now. So he lives down in the country, and 
studies and writes about plants. I have spent 
a great deal of time with him. He wanted me 
there for awhile. He thought, perhaps, he could 
make me straight — ^but he couldn’t.” 

This was the first instance that Petriken, by 
word or deed, had suggested that he was not as 
strong of muscle, and straight of limb as the 
other men. 

“I’ll go down there for my holidays, and I’ll 
tell him about Bernard. He will be glad to help 
him along, I know, and Bernard will be happy 
there with the fiowers.” 

“Bernard’s picked up a good bit of botany as 
it is. He knows the scientific names of all the 
weeds around here.” 


160 


LITTLE RHODY 


‘ ‘ Yes ; I know. I Ve picked up more from him 
than I have from hooks. ’ ’ 

They came to the main hallway. The men, 
ready for supper, were strolling up and down 
the hall. 

Don’t mention what I’ve told you, not to a 
soul,” said Shatter. ^‘Bother, I’ve left my 
guitar out on the porch. I must go back. It 
will be ruined if it lies there all night.” Turn- 
ing about, he hurried away. 

Petriken hobbled on toward his room. As he 
was about to turn from the main hall into the 
dormitory, Harry Lloyd came flying down the 
steps, followed by two of his satellites. His 
face was flushed with anger. His head was 
thrown back. He looked like a little bantam 
rooster, defying the world with its first crowing. 
Claude and Bruce, standing at the foot of the 
stairs, gave way to Lloyd and his friends, with 
a mock of apprehension. 

^‘What’s broke loose!” asked Watson. 
‘‘Where are you heading for at that rate!” 
“Nothing has broke loose now, but there’s go- 


LITTLE RHODY 


161 


ing to soon,’^ puffed Lloyd. ‘‘I’m going to the 
office, and I’m going to see that Dr. Weldon 
straightens out affairs, or I’ll go home on the 
next train.. I won’t stay in a school where no 
one can be trusted.” 

He hurried along the hall while he spoke, his 
two friends close at his heels. 

“Where no one can be trusted,” repeated 
Brenizer, wagging his head pompously. 

“This is awful,” cried Claude, falling back 
against Bruce in a pretense of fainting. “This 
is awful for Dr. Weldon. There won’t be any- 
thing left of him, when little ‘Miss Lloyd’ gets 
through sitting on him. Some one call an ambu- 
lance to carry out the remains.” 

Then he stretched out his hands beseechingly 
towards Lloyd ’s retreating back. ‘ ‘ Don ’t be too 
hard on him, ‘Miss Lloyd.’ Eemember his 
youth and inexperience. Eeason with him. 
Show him the error of his ways.” 

At this Lloyd turned his head, twisted up his 
mouth towards the fun-making boys, and said in 
a manner not out of keeping for a little miss in 

11 


162 


LITTLE RHODY 


the primary grade, ‘‘Oh, Claude Adams, you 
think you’re cute!” 

A shout went up at this. “Wliat’s the 
racket r’ asked Barnes, as Lloyd sailed passed 
him. 

“Matter? A good bit is the matter. Some- 
one has gone through my room again, and I’ve 
missed a lot of stuff.” 

“Missed a lot of stuff,” echoed Brenizer. 

“I’m not going to put up with it,” said Lloyd. 

“He’s not going to put up with it,” echoed 
his second friend. 

Sticking his hands deep in his pockets, Bruce 
strutted down the hall. “I suppose he’s missed 
a gold-plated collar button, the kind you pay a 
nickel apiece for. He makes more fuss about it 
than I did for the diamonds. When he was in 
the high school at Davenport, he had the whole 
place by the ears because some man had walked 
off with his lead pencil.” 

“All the same,” said Adams, “things are get- 
ting serious if a man must lock up everything, 
if he leaves his room for a few minutes. Lloyd 


LITTLE RHODY 


163 


isn’t the only one. There’s been one or two 
others who have found their possessions miss- 
ing. I’m in with ‘Miss Lloyd.’ There should 
be an investigation.” 

While Claude was speaking, Petriken involun- 
tarily glanced at Barnes, who, with his elbow 
propped against the wall, stood with his head 
braced against his outstretched palm. His posi- 
tion shielded him from observation. Yet Pet- 
riken fancied he saw Barnes’ lips twitch nerv- 
ously. 

The youngster felt trouble brewing for some 
one. He felt heart-sick. Turning aside, he said 
quietly, “I’m not coming down for supper. 
Don’t bother, Barnes, about having anything 
sent up. ’ ’ Then he hobbled away to his room. 












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CHAPTEE VII. 

The result of ‘‘Miss Lloyd’s’’ interview with 
Dr. Weldon was not known. Lloyd was not a 
popular man with the students. Brenizer and 
one or two others who revolved about him like 
satellites, made up his friends. 

Barnes, Shafter and Watson with their crowd 
had no sympathy with Lloyd and let him 
severely alone. They made no inquiries 
whether his loss had been recovered or not. 
They were, as a set, not interested in anything 
that pertained to him. He was a whiner, and 
went about fussing at every trifle which did not 
please him. He took no part in athletics, and 
had been known to carry news from one room 
to another, like a little, ill-bred girl. He was 
particularly distasteful to Shafter, who deep in 
his heart hated anything that was small. 

As luck would have it, the man in school who 

165 


166 


LITTLE RHODY 


was most admired by Lloyd, and the one whom 
he desired as a friend, was Shafter. The Union 
and its members constituted a charmed circle. 
Lloyd would have done anything, short of 
breaking his neck, to become a member, or even 
as Petriken, to stand within the shadow of its 
friendship. He fawned over the men and would 
have been their lackey, had they put him to 
such use. His every etfort to please them had 
the opposite effect. 

Shafter, while droll in speech and easy in 
manner, was a hard worker. He was thoroughly 
honest. He was independent in thought and 
manner. Beneath his light raillery was the 
spirit of a man willing to fulfill a man’s duties. 

Lloyd, who could not see beneath the surface, 
tried to imitate him. But where Shafter ’s 
repartee amused, Lloyd’s insulted. Where 
Shafter ’s remarks were general enough to make 
all laugh, Lloyd’s were so pointedly personal 
that some one was ready to take him to task. 

Each morning after breakfast, as the mem- 
bers of the Union quitted the dining-hall, they 


LITTLE RHODY 


167 


walked to the corner of the triangle — a place at 
the extreme end of the campus — the meeting 
place of the three walks which lead to the main 
and dormitory entrances of The Hall. Here 
they walked up and down, until the bell for 
chapel rang. 

This was an opportune time for the discus- 
sion of school affairs. The men felt at liberty 
to express themselves freely. Not all members 
of the faculty were popular. The reason of this 
was clearly set forth at these meetings at the 
triangle. Generally, Barnes said little. He 
listened to all that was said, and then clinched 
it with his decision. In his own mind, the mat- 
ter under discussion was then eifectually settled. 

Watson never hesitated to speak his mind 
fully. One good trait about Watson was that 
when he gave vent to his spleen in a few hasty 
and strong expressions, his mind was freed of 
all bitterness. He would turn about and do the 
honest, generous act toward the one who had 
aroused his displeasure. 

Shatter loitered a few steps in the rear, with 


168 


LITTLE RHODY 


Adams close at his heels. He saw the funny 
side in everything. He dropped in a few light 
remarks, and could scarcely he forced to accept 
as serious anything that was said. He whistled 
a little, sang a little, and, when the subject drew 
forth criticism too bitter, turned the tide of 
thought by an impromptu jingle. 

Making a mighty effort to keep up with their 
strides, Petriken hobbled after. He took a great 
delight in the manly strength of his friends. 
Never by expression of his own weakness or 
sufferings, did he detract an iota from their 
enjoyment. There was much from which his 
physical condition debarred him, but he dropped 
out without a whimper. Although he was weak 
in body, he was strong in other ways. There was 
nothing servile about him. He formed his own 
opinions of people and things, and followed 
out his own course of action. 

Each morning, Lloyd and his friends took 
to joining this group. He, with Brenizer and 
Fox, followed after, notwithstanding that their 
presence was ignored. 


LITTLE RHODY 


169 


The morning after his second loss, Lloyd 
joined the men, and catching step with Shafter, 
began the conversation with the question, “Say, 
who do you think is the guilty party? 

Shafter looked down upon him with an 
expression of bewilderment and surprise at the 
question. “Guilty? Guilty of what?^’ 

“Of taking my money. You know this is the 
second time I’ve missed something from my 
room?” 

“Indeed? No ; I didn’t know. What did you 
lose this time — your curling-iron or your fancy 
work?” There was no sarcasm in Shafter ’s 
voice, only lazy, good-natured indifference. He 
treated Lloyd as he would have treated a little 
fellow of six years. 

Lloyd pursed his lips into a pout, looking 
aggrieved at the question. He fidgeted nerv- 
ously with his cuffs. “Shafter, you’re always 
teasing,” he began. 

“I’m sure I did not mean to tease,” replied 
Shafter. “I supposed you expected me to say 


170 


LITTLE RHODY 


something, and that was all I could think of at 
•that moment/^ 

‘‘I lost some money and some towels. They 
were very handsome towels, embroidered with 
a big^L.’’’ 

Shatter threw back his head and laughed. 

‘‘I don’t see what you’re laughing at,” 
grumbled his companion. “You wouldn’t 
think it so funny, if someone walked off with 
your embroidered towels. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Funny ! It would be the most pathetic thing 
in the world, Lloyd. Any man who needs them 
more than I do must be quite destitute. My 
heart would ache for him. I did my own em- 
broidering, with indelible ink. ‘ J. E. S.’ in one 
comer. Most of them have a simple design of 
a large blackberry somewhere in the vicinity of 
the lettering. My mother says lemon juice is 
the only thing that will take it out. Watson’s 
mother embroidered him a table-cover in pans- 
ies. I like to keep up with the procession. 
Blackberry designs may not be so artistic, but 
they are more original.” 


LITTLE RHODY 


171 


Lloyd shrugged his shoulders. He did not 
know whether Shatter was laughing at him or 
not. But he was not to be turned from his sub- 
ject. 

< < There was only one person in my room dur- 
ing the afternoon. Everyone was away except 
Brenizer and me. We sat out on the back porch 
until just before you men came in. Then we 
went up to the reading-room. We knew you 
men had just come back, for we met Barnes in 
the upper hall. We told him we were going 
up-stairs to read. But when we went in the 
room, Prof. Wilbur was there, and he sent us 
out, just because Brenizer happened to talk a 
little.’’ 

“Indeed!” dryly. “But what, my Evening 
News, price one cent a copy, has all this riga- 
marole got to do with your losing your towels 
that were embroidered so beautifully?” 

“I’m not your Evening News,” pouted Lloyd. 
“I don’t see what you call me that for. You 
always have a name for every one. ’ ’ 

“Our Evening News at home tells all the news 


172 


LITTLE RHODY 


of the town. Some we want to know, and some 
we don’t want to hear abont. But we get it all 
whether we like it or not. It’s cheap — one cent 
for everything.” 

“Oh,” said Lloyd, giving a fussy little shake 
to his body, “is that itT’ He was wholly satis- 
fied with Shatter ’s explanation, seeing in it no 
reflection on himself. 

“My telling you all this has a good bit to do 
with who’s been taking what don’t belong to 
him. Straws show which way the wind blows.” 

“Unless some one’s breathing hard on them,” 
said John. 

“We weren’t in the reading-room ten min- 
utes. We came down-stairs and hurried back 
to our rooms. Whom do you suppose we saw 
in our hall?” 

“How should I know?” asked Shatter indif- 
ferently. The other men were several paces 
ahead — too far distant to hear this conversa- 
tion. Lloyd had modulated his voice into secre- 
tive, confidential tones. 

“The man you’d least suspect,” he replied, 


LITTLE RHODY 


173 


‘^yet I don’t see why we didn’t know from the 
first. Most of the men have all the money they 
can spend. They have no need for such matters. 
But it’s plain to me now that it can be no one 
else. My door was locked. I never leave my 
room without locking it. I carry my keys with 
me, too. The only way to get in is to use the 
master-key. Everybody knows who had the 
master-key last, and who has it now. ’ ’ 

“Bo they? I don’t! Who has it? If you 
know, you had better tell.” 

A keener boy than Lloyd would not have mis- 
interpreted the coolness of Shafter’s manner. 
His studied calmness was like the awful still- 
ness which precedes a destructive flash of light- 
ning. Lloyd went on to his own undoing. 

“What man,” he continued, “is there in 
school who has always had plenty of money? 
Then we hear that his family have lost every 
cent they had, and are so poor that he can’t be 
kept in school. But just about the time we 
think he’s ready to leave, he changes his mind, 
and stays and pays up his bills to the end of 


174 


LITTLE RHODY 


the term. I know that, for I was in the office 
when he came in. It was the very day Watson 
lost his pins, and you your money. Don’t that 
look suspicious r’ 

‘ ‘Very ! ’ ’ dryly. Shatter was looking straight 
ahead of him. He had shortened his strides in 
order to allow the other men to pass beyond 
hearing. “Very suspicious,” he repeated. 
“Now, who, pray, may this fellow be?” 

“You know whom I mean.” He nodded in 
the direction of the others, indicating by his 
gesture that he meant one of their number. 

“Who? Not Adams?” Shatter understood 
fully whom his companion meant. But for 
obvious reasons, knowing the boy with whom he 
dealt, he wished Lloyd to come out plainly. 

“No; Barnes,” he rejoined in an undertone. 

“Have you told anyone else?” The question 
was asked quite calmly enough, as though the 
answer was of little importance to the ques- 
tioner. 

“No; I really didn’t have it all clear in my 
own mind until this morning. But after I went 


LITTLE RHODY 


175 


to bed last night I got to thinking it all over — 
about the master-key — ^his losing his money and 
all that. Then I saw as clear as anyone who 
the guilty fellow must be.’’ 

There was a little pleasurable thrill of excite- 
ment in Lloyd’s voice. Personally he had no 
grievance against Barnes, except that which 
small natures have against those whom they fail 
to understand. He was pleased in that he 
thought he was coming a little closer to Shat- 
ter’s friendship by this burst of confidence. He 
looked up at Shatter and smiled. 

Shatter never glanced at him, but walked on 
a few minutes in silence. Then he turned, and 
looked at his companion with an expression 
which made Lloyd quake. When he spoke his 
voice showed no anger, only clear, calm decision, 
which would prove irrevocable. 

‘‘Let me suggest, Lloyd, that you don’t tell 
anyone else. The whole thing is false from 
beginning to end. My opinion of you is that 
you are a treacherous little cad, to come to one 
of Barnes’ friends with such a story. I advise 


1T6 


LITTLE RHODY 


you not to mention it to anyone, for if I hear 
of you doing it, 1^11 break every bone in your 
sneaking little body/’ 

Lloyd slunk away. He was a veritable little 
coward at best. didn’t know — I didn’t mean 

to—” 

“Well, after this, do know and do mean some- 
thing. It’s your place to know before you make 
such a statement.” 

“Mrs. Eben says that Barnes — ” be began 
again in a feeble attempt to justify himself and 
place the blame somewhere else. 

“We’re not talking now of what Mrs. Eben 
says. It’s what you’ve said that I’m talking 
about. If I were you, I’d get back to The Hall 
as fast as my legs could carry me — ^before the 
men find out. If they discover what you’ve said, 
there won’t be enough of you to hold a decent 
funeral over. Skip!” 

“You won’t tell — ” he whimpered. 

“I’m not going about with other people’s 
news. Skip out. I don’t want to see you 
around.” 


LITTLE RHODY 


177 


It was good advice, if not courteous. Lloyd 
acted upon it with an alacrity hitherto unknown 
to him. He went back across the campus as 
fast as his legs could carry him. 

The other men, reaching the end of the walk, 
turned suddenly at this moment, and saw Shat- 
ter standing with rigid muscles and white face. 
Only once or twice before had they seen him 
angry. They recognized the signs, although 
the moment he felt their eyes upon him, he 
laughed and made a pretense of being amused 
at the sight of Lloyd cutting across the campus. 

^‘Shatter looks as black as a thunder-cloud,’’ 
called out Claude Adams. ‘‘A storm’s brew- 
ing. ’ ’ 

wonder where the lightning will striked’ 
said Watson. 

^Ht’s struck already,’ replied Shatter joining 
them. Then he threw back his head, and in his 
tenor voice sang, 

‘The heavens grew dark, the clouds grew big; 

A ‘swell’ time then they had. 

The thunder roared, the lightning flashed. 

And struck — a little cad — ” 


12 


178 


LITTLE RHODY 


^‘What’s Prof. Wilbur going to do with the 
middlemen whoVe been flunking in geometry T’ 
ihe asked, seeking by the question to divert the 
attention of the men from the issue at hand. 
His manner did not deceive any one of them. 
They knew he was angry for some reason. 
They knew also that he wished to keep the 
matter to himself. They fell in with his wishes 
and for several minutes kept up a steady flow of 
conversation about Prof. Wilbur, and his inten- 
tions toward the indolent middlemen. 

‘‘We had better turn back toward The Hall,” 
said Barnes, looking at his watch. “It’s almost 
time for chapel bell. ’ ’ 

“We’d better not tumble in pell-mell, as we 
have been doing lately,” said Bruce. “Did you 
see how the Doctor looked at us once last week 
when we scurried in and fell all over our- 
selves?” 

“Did I?” said Claude with a sigh. “I was 
the last man in. I think I knocked against every 
chair on each side of the aisle, as I went up, 
and every one of them shook until I thought I’d 


LITTLE RHODY 


179 


drop right there. And all the while the Doctor 
stood there on the rostrum, looking calmly down 
on me, waiting until I^d reached my seat, before 
he’d begin prayers. It seemed to me, that 
morning, that the distance from the door to my 
front seat was at least a mile.” 

‘‘It’s his looking at you that does it,” said 
Bruce Watson, stopping an instant to adjust his 
cutf -links. “I’d sooner any day that he’d come 
right out with a cowhide and give me a thrash- 
ing than look at me the way he does. And when 
you are trying to think up a few plausible 
excuses, while he’s looking on, you feel as big 
as a postage stamp. ’ ’ 

“Postage stamp!” cried Shatter, “Why, a 
postage stamp is a ten-acre lot beside you. I 
remember the first term I was here. Some of 
us men tried to be cute, play a few jokes, and 
all that. The Doctor called us into the office. 
I was going to bluff right through. He sat there 
and listened. When he got through with me, 
and I left the office, I had to get a microscope to 
see myself.” 


180 


LITTLE RHODY 


“Well/’ said Bruce seriously, “if I ever do 
a really downright mean trick, I hope the Doctor 
won’t be around. I can stand anything but him 
having his eyes on me. That queers me every 
time.” 

“Talking of queers,” interrupted Shafter. 
“Isn’t that one going up the main walk now^ 
He looks like the concentrated essence of all the 
lost tribes. He’s Isaac, by the cut of his coat.” 

“It’s no use of his going to The Hall. The 
Doctor’s laid in his winter clothes,” said Claude 
in mock seriousness. “He buys hand-me-downs 
at each spring auction sale. Then he has 
enough to see him through the next winter. ’ ’ 

The boys laughed. The picture of their 
dignified, stately Doctor in anything but the 
most immaculate of broadcloth was amusing. 

“Perhaps he thinks he’ll get the contract for 
supplying us as a school. Put us all in uni- 
forms with trousers too short in the legs, and 
coat sleeves that come over our thumb-nails. It 
will go harder with Watson than the rest of us. 
It’s a good thing sometimes not to have a dress 


LITTLE RHODY 


181 


suit. You’re bound to miss it when it’s gone. 
There’s always something to be thankful for,” 
said Shafter. 

‘‘In fashionable society,” began Claude 
Adams, in his droll way. His humor was of 
the uncertain kind. One never knew whether 
to laugh with him, or weep for him. “In fash- 
ionable society, if you cannot afford a dress- 
coat, what do you get?” 

“Ask me something easy, like reciting an 
original poem in Hebrew,” said Shafter, “and 
I’ll try to answer it. But I’m not up in fash- 
ionable society. They don’t talk it up our way, 
and I never studied it down here.” 

“The ‘sach^ of course,” replied Adams. 

“I’m afraid that is what my friend Solomon 
Levi will get, when he calls upon the Doctor.” 
He waved his hand in the direction of the figure 
which was then ascending the steps, leading to 
the main entrance. 

And such a figure as it was. There could be 
no mistaking his nationality. He, as Shafter 
had said, looked like the concentrated essence 


182 


LITTLE RHODY 


of all the lost tribes. He was a Jew, a veritable 
Shylock, if one could judge from his counten- 
ance. His furtive glances, his stealthy manner 
of walking, his sycophantic air, were sufficient 
to prejudice the most liberal-minded. 

His appearance caused remark among the 
men, because people of his bearing were rarely 
seen at The Hall. The teachers were cultivated 
people ; the servants plain, honest folk, born and 
bred in the country about. The Hall school had 
been founded on plain, quiet lines. Pretension 
or show of any kind was discountenanced. 
Although the pupils were for the greater part 
wealthy, their money was wholly without in- 
fluence. Here a man stood on his own feet, 
without support of family or money. The man 
himself was what counted. The Hall developed 
the best that was in a boy. Few could remain 
here for three years without being made into 
honorable, self-reliant young men. Boys en- 
tered who were lazy and caddish, and quitted 
the school energetic, honest, or at least strug- 
gling toward those ends. 


LITTLE RHODY 


183 


Dr. Weldon, calm, serene, a man of high 
ideals and iron will, left the stamp of his own 
character on every one abont him. 

To him, the man stood first ; worldly advance- 
ment and honors were mere trifles. The fnlfill- 
ing of one’s obligations to society, the uplifting 
of one ’s self, were his ideals of what man should 
do. Yet with all his influence, and the power 
incumbent upon his position, he was mild, 
gentle, humble. 

What errand such a man as this present 
visitor could have with Dr. Weldon was indeed 
a question. 

‘‘Oh, I understand now what the fellow 
wants,” cried Shatter, “he’s buying old rags. 
My royal illuminator, hadn’t you better hurry 
back to our room? Some of our clothes might 
be missing later, if you don’t. How could you 
pull through the winter without your claw- 
tailed dress-coat? Let me bring to your mind 
the question ever asked yet never answered: 
what is school without a dress-suit?” 

Bruce flung back his head. He strutted a 


184 


LITTLE RHODY 


trifle more in his walk, as he replied in his 
superior way, ‘^The loss of a dress-suit more 
or less doesn’t worry me. There’s always more 
where the first came from, and money enough 
to settle for them.” 

‘‘Turn off the gas,” advised Adams. 

“That reminds me,” said Shatter, patting 
Bruce on the shoulders. “In what way is Wat- 
son like his father’s best oil well?” 

“Deep?” asked Bruce. 

“Scarcely,” replied Shatter. 

“I’m not familiar with the oil region lan- 
guage,” said Barnes. His manner intimated 
that it was a dialect scarcely worthy of his 
attention, “so I am out of the game.” 

Petriken chuckled aloud. “I can give one 
answer. I know the oil terms. Is it because he 
‘flares’ up?” 

“That’s true enough, but not the one I 
thought of.” 

“Is it because the ‘go-devil’s’ in him?” con- 
tinued Petriken. 

The boys who knew the language of the oil 


LITTLE RHODY 


185 


country laughed. The go-devil” is a small, 
sharp-pointed piece of steel, which is dropped 
into the pipes after they have been charged with 
nitro-glycerine. The concussion causes an ex- 
plosion which fires the well. 

^‘You^re right there, youngster. But you 
haven’t given the answer I had in mind. He’s 
a gusher, a spouter.” 

Bruce adjusted his cuffs, then turned toward 
Shatter. Slipping his arm through Shatter’s, 
he looked up in his face. ‘Hf I didn’t really 
know you, old fellow, I’d think you have the 
sharpest tongue at The Hall.” 

Bruce’s expression showed the greatest 
admiration and confidence. He and Shatter 
understood each other well. Beneath the sur- 
face sharpness, a confidence and trust existed 
which nothing could alter. 

As Bruce spoke the chapel bell rang. The 
group hurried their steps, passing quickly up 
the middle walk toward the main entrance. Dr. 
Weldon’s offices and the public reception-room 
opened into the main hall. 


186 


LITTLE RHODY 


As the young men entered, Dr. Weldon came 
from his private office. He was accompanied 
by the visitor whom they had seen entering The 
Hall but a few minutes before. Closer inspec- 
tion proved him yet more offensive. His expres- 
sion was sinister and crafty. 

Dr. Weldon paused until the students passed. 
He watched them closely, as did his companion. 
Barnes came last. When the eyes of the caller 
fell upon him, he dug his elbow into Dr. Wel- 
don’s side, saying, in what was meant to be a 
whisper, but which was heard from one end of 
the hall to the other, ‘‘Gra-shuss me, that vas 
the shentlemans, hisself.” 

Shatter could not repress a giggle. He slack- 
ened his steps until Barnes was in a line with 
him. Then prodding him in the ribs, imitating 
the Jew, he said, “Mine gra-shuss, Meester 
Barnes, is he a frent mit you?” 

“I saw him once before,” said Barnes, who 
had no desire of becoming the butt of Shatter’s 
humor. “His name is Herman Levi. He keeps 
a pawn and second-hand shop.” 


LITTLE RHODY 


187 


“My name is Solomon Levi, 

And my store’s in Salem street. 

That’s where you buy your coats and vests. 

And everything else that’s neat. 

Your second-handed ulsterettes, 

And everything else that’s fine. 

Oh, all the boys, they trade with me. 

At a hundred and sixty-nine.” 

sang Shafter, so softly that only the men about 
him heard. Then he turned toward Barnes, and 
as they walked down the long hall, made a pre- 
tense of critically examining his clothes. 

‘‘Well, Barnes,’’ he said, after the inspection, 
“of course, you never have looked quite as up- 
to-date in your dressing as the other men here, 
but I’ll say right here that you certainly do 
wonders on second-hand goods. Why, I never 
would have suspected it, if you hadn’t told us. 
But now I remember seeing that coat. Your 
friend, Mr. Levi, had it on exhibition before his 
place last week. Had it marked ninety-nine 
cents, if I remember, — reduced from a dollar.” 

While the men were chaffing in this good 
humored vein, a conversation of a different 


188 


LITTLE RHODY 


character was being carried on between Dr. 
Weldon and his caller. 

‘‘You are quite sure, Mr. Levi, that he is the 
gentleman to whom you previously referred 
“Sure? Oh, help me, gra-shuss. I was so 
sure as nothing. Himitvas.’^ 

“Well, Mr. Levi, I shall attend to the matter 
at once. The matter shall be investigated. I 
shall report results to you at the earliest oppor- 
tunity. I have your address. It will not be 
necessary for you to remain longer, nor can I 
give you permission to speak to him now. ^ ’ 

Dr. Weldon, with a certain class of people, 
was icily formal. The man’s familiar manner, 
his seeming desire to cause a scene, with the 
result, perhaps, of humiliating one of the young 
men, disgusted the Doctor. He had no sympathy 
for people such as this. He withdrew within 
the armor of his dignity. 

Walking to the door with his guest, he bowed 
him out. 

The men were assembled in chapel when he 
entered and took his place among the teachers 


LITTLE RHODY 


189 


upon the rostrum. The men who had been at 
The Hall for three years, and who knew the 
Doctor best, saw at once that something weighed 
upon him. Before he ascended the steps to the 
rostrum, they saw him bow his head for a 
moment in prayer. 

During the singing, his glance passed from 
student to student, resting upon each one 
thoughtfully and earnestly as though he hoped 
to read aright the expression of eye and lips. 
When he offered the morning prayer, he asked 
not for strength for these young people, 
strength for right living, as was his usual peti- 
tion; but he pleaded that they might repent of 
the evil already done, confess *wherein they had 
been wrong ; then that he himself might not err, 
but would be given the wisdom and strength to 
do that which was best for each one of those 
entrusted to his care. 

Each student was moved by the words they 
heard. One or two of the older men remem- 
bered that Dr. Weldon had so prayed two years 


190 


LITTLE RHODY 


before, when he found it necessary to expel two 
students. 

The intensity of the silence which followed 
the prayer was unbroken until the number of 
the second hymn was announced. Then a stir 
went over the room, as the nerves and muscles 
of two hundred students relaxed. 

Bruce bent over his singing book to whisper 
to Shatter, ‘‘Some one will pack his trunk 
to-night.’’ He tried to speak lightly, but his 
voice was husky. 

“Don’t try to bluff me, Bruce. You’re half 
crying now. Don’t try to be funny. Every one 
knows you’re trying to bluff.” 

The hymn was finished. Dr. Weldon arose to 
make the special announcements. He ran over 
the time of different societies, and mentioned a 
change in the hour of the gymnasium work. He 
finished with, “Mr. Barnes will not attend 
classes this morning, but come directly to my 
office.” 

He turned, as was his custom, and quitted the 
rostrum. 


LITTLE RHODY 


191 


Not a man in the room dared look at Barnes. 
Never before had the men quitted the chapel so 
quietly. No words were spoken, as two by two, 
they went down the long corridor toward the 
class-rooms. The freshmen were uncertain what 
this might mean ; but the seniors expected that 
before another day Barnes would be packing 
his tnmk. 












CHAPTEE VIII. 

Baenes did not make his appearance during 
the remainder of the morning. Every man in 
school had his mind upon him, yet not one men- 
tioned his name. Neither by word nor act did 
they suggest that anything unusual had hap- 
pened. The instructors found before them 
classes tractable, but not docile. There was an 
outward calm, an absence of noise or confusion ; 
but the attention of the students was not upon 
the lessons. 

During the middle of the morning, a messen- 
ger appeared at the door of Prof. Wilbur’s 
recitation room, with the request from Dr. Wel- 
don that Mr. Bruce Watson should appear at 
once in the office. This spread from one class- 
room to another. It was impossible to tell how 
each man learned this bit of news. There 
seemed to be no communication whatever. 

193 


13 


194 


LITTLE RHODY 


Petriken was in the first year’s Latin recita- 
tion, when the suggestion of what might be hap- 
pening in the office came to him. He had not 
the self-control of Shafter or Adams. So he 
put down his head on his upturned arm. He 
did not weep. He was not such a child as that. 
It is a popular fancy that when boys go offi to 
school they are done with tears. But he fairly 
shook with nervousness and suppressed emo- 
tion. He was on the verge of a nervous chill 
when the instructor noticing his condition sent 
him from the class. 

Under this excitement, the disposition of the 
men showed up in different lights. ‘‘Miss 
Lloyd” with his friends, seemed to expand 
under the troubles of another. Lloyd, particu- 
larly, grew quite animated in expression. 

Disgrace for Barnes, in Lloyd’s mind, was a 
natural sequence, and must follow such pride 
and haughtiness. He took a little credit to him- 
self, too, in that he was the first man to suspect 
Barnes of wrong-doing. Perhaps, after this, 
the other students would learn to respect his 


LITTLE RHODY 


195 


judgment. He was growing tired of always 
being ignored. He could not help wondering 
how Shatter would feel over this. If these sus- 
picions against Barnes proved true, an apology 
was due him (Lloyd) from Shatter. Lloyd 
meant to stand on his dignity and not mete out 
forgiveness until Shatter grew abject. 

During the change of classes, the latter part 
of the morning. Shatter and Lloyd met in their 
hurrying through the corridors. 

To say that Shatter looked disturbed was to 
put it mildly. He was, as the men had a way of 
saying, ^ ‘ all cut up. ’ ’ He was ready and willing 
to stand for Barnes’ integrity and to quarrel 
with anyone who might question it. It was an 
unpropitious moment for a discussion of the 
matter. Yet Lloyd, who was neither discerning 
nor tactful, broached the subject at the first 
opportunity. He laughed a soft girlish laugh, 
turning his head over sideways, mincing his 
words as he said : 

‘‘What do you think about that now, Shaf- 

terr’ 


196 


LITTLE RHODY 


Shafter knew to what the hoy referred, but 
parried his question with another : 

‘‘Think about whatT’ 

“About Barnes.’’ 

“About Barnes r’ — ^he repeated the question 
as though surprised that anyone should think 
it necessary to ask it. “About Barnes — think 
of him as I always have.” 

“Oh, that’s all well enough to say. Of course 
you won’t eat your words of this morning. But 
I guess everyone knows where the master-key 
is. Barnes and you were friends, and I suppose 
you think it looks heroic to stick to him, but 
you’ll be the only one that will. Even Dr. Wel- 
don has turned against him. Anyone could see 
that from the way he ordered him to come into 
the office. It was plain enough for anyone to 
see. I guess you’ll think I am right after this 
fuss.” 

Shafter listened patiently until “Miss Lloyd” 
had finished this harangue. Then he turned and 
looked Lloyd in the face. 

“Think?” he asked. “Do you really wish to 


LITTLE RHODY 


197 


know what I think of you? I thought I made 
the matter clear this morning. But since you 
seem anxious to know, Vll tell you.’’ 

A few of the other men had come up, among 
them Adams and Watson, who had just 
returned from the office. Shatter’s manner 
showed that something unusual was at hand. 
They drew near. Shatter continued: 

‘‘I think you are a sneaking little cad, and I 
don’t want you to come about where I am. You 
are too little for me and my friends to see. 
Hereafter, if you have anything against a man, 
go to him and have it out. Don’t go sneaking 
about among his friends with your gossip.” 

“Is it Barnes he’s been interested in?” asked 
Claude Adams. 

“Yes,” said Shatter, striding down the hall, 
still indignant, but losing control over his 
temper. “His criticising Barnes is like a dog 
barking at the moon. I’m not going into class 
now. ^Miss Lloyd ’ has entirely upset me. I’ll 
explain to Prof, later. He ’ll understand. Come 


198 


LITTLE RHODY 


into my room, men, we ^11 have a little time 
before dinner.” 

When the door was closed after them, and 
they felt free from the curious glances of the 
freshmen, the subject of Barnes and his pres- 
ence in the office was brought up. Each one 
suspected the reason ; yet none dared put it into 
words lest, by the mere expression of his sus- 
picion, he might make to the others a false 
accusation against the man they all called 
friend. Their faith in Barnes was stable as 
ever. Each believed him honest and true, what- 
ever charges might be made. Watson, alone, 
knew the facts which had been laid bare in the 
office. He had heard and seen what had taken 
place there. But he kept a rigid silence. That 
in itself was ominous. For in trifling matters 
Bruce blustered; while on matters of moment, 
he kept quiet and carried himself with a dignity 
that won every man’s respect. So these three, 
with loyalty to Barnes and his best interest at 
heart, kept silence and parried around a subject 
which was taxing both their faith and strength. 


LITTLE RHODY 


199 


At last Shatter spoke, ^‘It’s useless pretend- 
ing longer. Yon men know that no one conld 
make me believe Barnes capable of anything 
that was mean or small. I^m his friend now, as 
I have always been. When I ask yon, Watson, 
abont this tronble, the asking is not from idle 
cnriosity. We might help Barnes if we knew 
where the tronble is. Yon mnst tell ns enongh, 
that we don’t go abont walking in the dark.” 

He laid his hand on Brnce’s shonlder. He 
was taller by half-a-head. There was something 
of the elder brother in his manner and expres- 
sion, as he looked down into his friend’s face 
and laid his hand on his shonlder. Then Shat- 
ter langhed lightly, trying to pass over the mat- 
ter, as he continned, ‘‘Now, my royal illnmina- 
tor, live np to yonr name and enlighten ns.” 

“It’s abont the worst that conld happen,” 
said Brnce slowly. He was worried and de- 
pressed. He made no effort to appear other- 
wise. “Abont as bad as can be. He has been 
accnsed of picking np these things that have 
been missing. He was openly accnsed before 


200 


LITTLE RHODY 


Dr. Weldon. Of course, the Doctor then had to 
clear the matter up. He’s all broken up about 
it.’^ 

‘‘Does he believe T’ began Shatter. 

Watson shook his head slowly. “No; he 
doesn^t believe it, but he’s bound to investigate. 
You see Barnes one morning hadn’t money 
enough to pay his bills to the end of the term. 
Then within an hour or so, he pays them all and 
has money enough. That was the morning we 
missed — ^missed a few — trifles. There were 
other matters, too, which were brought up.” 

“What does Barnes say? He could tell where 
he got the money and settle the matter. I don’t 
see any use in making a hubbub about a matter 
like that.” 

Shatter’s face had brightened at his own sug- 
gestion. He had not forgotten about the scene 
in Bernard’s workshop ; but as he reasoned with 
himself, the money stolen was his own. If he 
chose to lose it, the responsibility was his alone. 
Then, too, he had no desire to draw poor half- 
witted Bernard into trouble, and rob him of the 


LITTLE RHODY 


201 


only place which he could call home. If dis- 
closing what he knew of the whereabouts of the 
missing money was necessary to save the repu- 
tation of his friend, then he would tell that Ber- 
nard had it stored away. For justice must 
be done, although Bernard must suffer. ‘‘Why 
don’t Barnes tellT’ he repeated eagerly. 
“Surely that would settle the matter.” 

“It might if that was all. But, Shatter, 
there’s a great deal else came up. Dr. Weldon 
asked Barnes to explain some matters which do 
look a little queer, but he won’t. He says 
simply that he never used a penny that wasn’t 
his own, and refuses to explain further, 
although he says he can. But he’s so angry 
that he’s white. He’s tearing mad at the 
thought that anyone could think of him in con- 
nection with such matters. So he stands there 
like a statue with his arms folded, and his lips 
pressed tight, and won’t say a word.” 

“Well,” said Shatter, “if the worst comes to 
the worst and he won’t speak, we’ll do it for 


202 


LITTLE EHODY 


him. I know where the money is — or did a few 
days ago.’’ 

‘ ‘ You do ? Did you get it back f ’ ’ 

‘‘No; but I saw it and know who took it. 
Where it is and who took it I shall not tell, 
unless Barnes won’t talk. Then I shall. That 
seems to be the strongest point against him.” 

Bruce hesitated before answering. How much 
of what he had learned in the ofi&ce should be 
divulged for Barnes’ good and how much he 
must in honor keep back was a difficult matter 
to decide. 

“Don’t ask me too much, old man,” he said 
at last, as though wearied. “It’s pretty hard 
to know just what to do. But that won’t save 
him. There were other matters brought up. 
It’s no use talking about it longer. You know 
nothing that wiU clear him, nor do I.” 

“Who went to Dr. Weldon with the story?” 

“How should I know?” said Bruce evasively, 
turning aside that Shatter might not read his 
face. 

“If I thought for one moment that it was our 


LITTLE RHODY 


203 


little ‘lady,’ over in the dormitory, I’d settle 
accounts with him so that either he or I would 
leave The Hall.” 

“It wasn’t Lloyd. You can rest easy on that 
score, I’m sure of that,” replied Watson. 

“It’s a blessed good thing for him that it 
wasn’t,” returned Shatter with decision. 

“Well, it appears to me,” said Claude Adams, 
“that we know little about the case, as yet. We 
can’t render a decision imtil certain points are 
made clear.” 

Claude meant to become a lawyer in some far 
distant future when he had finished school and 
had become rid of a certain languor of manner 
and aversion of mind toward work. The only 
steps he had taken toward the goal was in the 
picking up of a few technical terms, which he 
aired whenever the occasion presented itself. 

“Well, we know this much,” said Shatter, 
“we can give a decision this far: that Barnes 
never took that money or anything else that was 
not his. I’m sure of that.” 

“I’m that, too,” said Bruce. “I never sup- 


204 


LITTLE RHODY 


posed for a moment that one of us members of 
the Union could be anything else but square.’’ 

‘‘Nor I,” said Claude. 

Shatter came out to the middle of the room. 
His feelings had been wrought upon all the 
morning. He was excited now. His eyes were 
bright, and his cheeks flushed. He despised all 
that was mean or low. Fidelity to his friends 
was part of him. 

“I’ll never believe that Barnes could be 
guilty of such things,” he repeated. “I’ll not 
believe it if everyone else says it is true, and 
there’s evidence enough to convict him a dozen 
times. Until he says himself that he’s guilty, 
I’ll believe him innocent. And even then he 
might take the blame to save someone else. He 
has such a sense of honor and responsibility. 
He’d sacrifice himself any day for a man he 
called his friend. 

“But even had he done this — remember I am 
only supposing a case for Barnes is incapable 
of it — but even if he should have done it, I’m 
his friend just the same. There’s such a thing 


LITTLE RHODY 


205 


as a hero failing once in his life. And even if 
Barnes has done this thing, it isn’t because 
he’s a thief or a coward, but only that he has 
had his moment of weakness, and that’s the 
time he needs his friends. Of what service were 
we, when all was fair weather with him? None 
at all, only good companions. Now the time 
has come when he needs friends and I mean to 
be one of them. Where do you two stand ? ’ ’ 

“I stand with you,” said Bruce Watson, turn- 
ing and clasping the hand of his friend. 

‘‘I too,” said Claude Adams. ‘‘I can’t talk 
about it like Shatter does, but I guess we mean 
the same thing after all.” His hand met those 
of Shatter and Watson. For a moment, the 
three stood with clasped hands. Their emotions 
had been worked upon until they were at full 
tide. The time was ripe for the ebb. 

At this critical moment, they became con- 
scious that they were not alone, and had not 
been. 

Petriken stood in the doorway. He was lean- 
ing heavily on his crutch, as though he had 


206 


LITTLE RHODY 


about reached the limit of his physical strength. 
He had heard all of Shafter’s speech. He was 
greatly relieved that he stood not alone as 
Barnes^ friend. The little fellow’s face was 
twisted with pain. It was always so. Any 
excitement brought on him a nervous suffering 
that drew the muscles of one side of his body 
all awry, and exhausted him so that he was 
scarcely able to move about. But the twisted 
muscles could not hide the relief which came 
to him on hearing the conversation among these 
three. 

“I heard what you said,” he began nervously, 
couldn’t help it. Shatter. You were talking 
louder than you thought. But I’m glad I heard 
— more than glad. I thought I was all the friend 
he had left, and my friendship wasn’t worth 
much. Someone told me how you settled Lloyd 
this morning. I couldn’t have helped in even 
that way. I can’t fight his battles even though 
I wished to fight them. But you men can. You 
are — are — different. ’ ’ 

“You can help as much as anyone, youngster. 


LITTLE RHODY 


207 


It isn’t physical strength he needs now. He has 
enough of that of his own. But he mustn’t feel 
that anyone believes this, or that one of his 
friends has deserted him. Come in. Don’t 
stand there in the doorway. You look so un- 
comfortable.” 

can’t, Shatter. I came over on an errand. 
Do you know the ten-minute bell has rung? 
Barnes is back in his room. I tried to talk to 
him, but he won’t say much, and he isn’t going 
down to dinner. I think he should. I don’t 
know what happened there in the office, and I 
don’t care much, as far as my feeling towards 
Barnes is concerned. But he shouldn’t be left 
alone in his room. I think it would be wiser 
for him to go down to the table. He’ll feel bet- 
ter if he eats something, and his staying away 
now might make some of the new men think that 
something serious had happened. I want Lloyd 
and a few others to feel that a little bit of gossip 
can’t touch Barnes.” 

His eager eyes were all aglow. He leaned 


208 


LITTLE RHODY 


forward on his crutch. His weariness and pain 
were forgotten. 

‘^That’s why I came over now, although I 
supposed you men were talking together. Won’t 
you drop in our room on your way down to 
dinner and take Barnes along with you? I tried 
to explain how much better it would be if he’d 
eat a little, but I’m only a Freshie and I can’t 
persuade him, like you men can. Will you 
come?” 

‘‘Sure, youngster.” 

“We’ll be there. 

When the dinner-bell is ringing, 

We’ll be there; 

You will know us by our singing, 

Singing loud as we are able. 

As we rush on to the table. 

When the dinner-bell is ringing. 

We’ll be there. We’ll be there.” 

Shatter made a noble effort but it was all in 
vain. He could not appear light-hearted or gay, 
nor could he make the others believe him so. 
His voice quavered on the high notes, and the 
last measure ended in a melancholic minor tone. 


LITTLE RHODY 


209 


He turned about, keeping Ms face frorn tbe 
boys. 

We ’ll go right along, Petriken. Just wait 
until I get on a clean pair of cuffs. These look 
as though I had been digging coal. It’s sur- 
prising how dirty a man gets around here, in 
a place as clean as this, isn’t it?” 

He searched his bureau for the desired 
articles. They were right beneath his eyes all 
the while, but the search gave him the oppor- 
tunity to compose his features. 

Having arranged his toilet to his satisfaction, 
he departed with his friends for Barnes’ room. 
Had they expected to find a crushed spirit there, 
they were disappointed. 

Barnes greeted the men as before, inviting 
them in and making places for them. If there ' 
was any change his manner was a trifle more 
dignified and conservative than usual. But to 
the request of the men to go down with them 
for dinner, he gave a prompt refusal. Impor- 
tunities would have been useless. Barnes was 
not the man to be coaxed into anything. • 


14 


210 


LITTLE RHODY 


“Well, if you think best to go without, all 
right,’’ said Shatter. “But some of the newer 
men don’t understand about the request Dr. 
Weldon made in the chapel. They are under 
the impression that something out of the ordi- 
nary has happened. Your absence will give 
color to this impression. These new men, too, 
do not know you, Barnes. I would not let them 
think you are up here, doing penance for some- 
one ’s else sins.” 

Barnes sat quiet a moment. He folded his 
arms and pressed his lips close together. For 
an instant, he riveted his gaze upon a design in 
the carpet at his feet. Then he raised his eyes 
to look at Shatter. His muscles relaxed. “You 
are right. Shatter. I never thought of the mat- 
ter in that light. It would be better to go down. 
I’ll go.” He was upon his feet as he finished. 

Petriken, delighted with the effect of his 
strategy, hobbled to open the door, as though 
he feared a moment of tardiness would change 
Barnes’ intentions. 

They moved toward the door, Adams and 


LITTLE RHODY 


211 


Watson first, Shatter and Barnes close at their 
heels. Then Shatter suddenly taced about. 

‘‘IVe simply got to speak, Barnes,” he said. 
To be sure, no one could doubt it ! That is, no 
one who knew the impetuous, straighttorward 
Shatter. When he wished to say anything, he 
had to say it. 

simply have to speak,” he repeated. 

‘ ‘ Tell me to mind my own business it you want 
to. You may think it’s none ot my affairs but 
it is. It’s every honest man’s affairs when 
someone is wrongtully accused. Ot course you 
know that we think this is all ‘ rot. ’ But I want 
to tell you that we believe in you as we always 
have. It there’s anything that can be done, 
we’re here. Call on us !” 

He held out his hand. Barnes did not take 
it. ‘ ‘ Thank you. Shatter, I knew you men would 
not tail me. ’ ’ 

don’t understand why you keep silent. 
Why don’t you tell Dr. Weldon where you got 
your money? Ot course it is none ot his busi- 
ness, or anyone’s else. But he is torced into 


212 


LITTLE RHODY 


investigating, and does it, I think, in the hope 
of proving your innocence.’’ 

‘‘As though I needed proof,” said Barnes bit- 
terly. “The mere suggestion of needing it is 
an insult — enough to make a man’s blood boil.” 

“I know I couldn’t be as calm over it as you 
are. But just the same, now and then, it’s wis- 
dom to take your pride and put it in your 
pocket. Y ou won ’ t tell ? ’ ’ 

“Never. I used no money but my own. How 
I came by that and why I changed my mind 
that day and decided to remain at The Hall 
is the business of no one but myself. If Dr. 
IWeldon, or anyone else, thinks I’m capable of 
entering anyone’s room and helping myself, 
that minute I lose all respect for that person’s 
judgment or opinion. I could and would have 
told any of you men, weeks ago, had you cared 
to ask; but I’ll not be forced into making public 
my private affairs.” 

“Well, Barnes, you may do as you think best 
about that. But if you don’t speak, I shall. I 
know some things about the affair that you 


LITTLE RHODY 


213 


don’t. I Ve kept quiet for reasons of my own. I 
know who has the money. It is safe, every cent. 
I even went so far as to count it.” 

“Telling that rests with you. But, Shatter, 
that is not all. Didn’t Bruce tell you all that 
went on in the office?” 

“I told him nothing — only that you stood 
there like a sphinx and wouldn’t say a word,” 
exclaimed Bruce. “I’m not that kind of a 
chap. ’ ’ 

“It wasn’t about the money alone,” continued 
Barnes. “There were other matters brought 
up. Dr. Weldon thinks I have Bruce’s dia- 
monds — pried free from their settings, of 
course. I confess that the affair does look 
irregular. It will test your faith, Shafter. But 
I assure you that in spite of its queer look, the 
whole affair, on my part, is above board.” 

“You need not assure me of that. We all 
know it.” 

This time as he held out his hand, Barnes took 
it in his grasp. 

“Mrs. Rhen, I believe, knows a great deal 


214 


LITTLE RHODY 


that I should or should not have done,’’ con- 
tinued Barnes. ‘‘She seems anxious to tell all 
she knows or imagines. That Shylock whom 
you saw this morning, too, has a story of his 
own. He came first, with the intention of meet- 
ing me and ‘bleeding’ me, if he could. But he 
fell into Dr. Weldon’s hands. They intend 
meeting in the office after dinner to discuss me. 
A Jew pawnbroker and Mrs. Ehen ! I’m afraid 
there won’t be much left of my reputation.” 

“We’ll be there, too,” said Shatter. “If you 
won’t talk, I will. I’ll have quite as much to 
say as Mrs. Ehen.” 

“I’ll be there, too. There’s times when I 
fairly ache for a scrap, and this is one of them,” 
said Bruce. “But come on. Let us get some- 
thing to eat first. I’m famished, and this is 
chicken-soup day — out of what was left from 
Sunday dinner — roast beef and sweet potatoes. 
I never have time to finish my soup, before that 
new waiter sweeps it away and pushes my din- 
ner-plate before me.” 

It was a relief to turn the conversation into 


LITTLE RHODY 


215 


lighter vein. Shatter tossed hack the hall with, 
‘‘That’s just the way she treated me. I’d he 
talking to someone, and first thing I’d know, 
off would walk Mr. Soup-plate. But I broke her 
of that. One day when Prof. Wilhur wasn’t at 
the table I sang softly to her.” He raised his 
voice to its highest pitch, as he sang : 

“My soup plate has gone from the table. 

My soup plate I nowhere can see. 

O, run, Ann, as quick as you’re able. 

And bring back that soup plate to me. 

Bring back, bring back, 

Oh, bring back that soup plate to me!” 

“That broke her,” he added. 

“I should think it would,” said Claude, 

mournfully. “It would break most anything.” 
* * * «: 

Immediately after dinner John Shatter and 
Bruce Watson interviewed Dr. Weldon, obtain- 
ing permission to be present that afternoon 
when the matter was brought up against 
Barnes. It was a subdued set of men who 
assembled an hour later in one end of the office. 


216 


LITTLE RHODY 


Each one did his best to keep what he termed 
a stiff upper lip/’ 

Barnes was all that dignity and convention 
demanded. From his appearance, one might 
readily suppose him to be the judge rather than 
the accused. 

Lloyd came in among the last. He would 
have joined the other men at the end of the 
room, had Shatter not been there. But his 
previous meetings with Shafter that day had 
not been much to his liking, so he wisely con- 
cluded to keep clear of him. He went off to one 
of the great windows, and fixing his eyes upon 
the gaunt, bare limbs of the campus trees, pre- 
tended absorption in the scene. 

Dr. Weldon for some reason had been 
detained. He entered the office some minutes 
after the students. He greeted them court- 
eously. His manner toward Barnes showed 
confidence in him. 

‘‘We will wait a few moments, until Mrs. 
Ehen comes in,” he said, seating himself at his 


LITTLE RHODY 


217 


desk. ‘‘I have a few letters to glance over. Be 
seated, gentlemen.^’ 

He took up a bundle of letters. Selecting sev- 
eral of importance, he began to read. Before 
he had finished, Mrs. Rhen appeared. She wad- 
dled forward, panting for breath, a chronic state 
with her. Her silver chain and bunch of house- 
keeper ’s keys jingled at her side. 

Barnes stepped forward to place a chair for 
her. She ignored this courteous attention, turn- 
ing her back on him. 

Dr. Weldon laid down his letters. He looked 
from one student to another. Then he spoke. 
He expressed the hope that the course he was 
pursuing would result in proving th6 innocence 
of one who had been openly accused of a crime. 
Personally, his confidence and respect had 
always been and was yet with this student. But 
investigation was the only course left open to 
him. He was giving Mr. Barnes an opportunity 
to refute and prove false all that had been said 
against him. Moreover, it was understood, and 
had so been understood for years throughout 


218 


LITTLE RHODY 


the school, that the conferences and confidences 
of the office were not the property of the school. 
He requested that each one respect his wishes 
in this matter, and speak to no one of what took 
place there. Then he became more specific. He 
related that a Jewish pawnbroker had come to 
him with the story that a student from The Hall 
had, a few weeks previous, pawned unset dia- 
monds of great value. He had advanced several 
hundred dollars on them, for he saw at a glance 
that they were of excellent quality and finely 
cut. On considering the matter later, Mr. Levi 
was suspicious that all was not as it should be. 
Eumors somehow had become current that 
students had missed similar articles. His cus- 
tomer, Mr. Levi said, had told a plausible story 
about the jewels being left to him by a relative, 
and, being financially embarrassed for the time, 
he had decided to pawn these jewels. Mr. Levi 
that morning had come to him. He had recog- 
nized Mr. Barnes as the student who had se- 
cured money on the diamonds. 

While Dr. Weldon was talking, Petriken 


LITTLE RHODY 


219 


listened eagerly. But when this last statement 
was made, he sank back in his chair. He could 
not trust himself to look at Barnes or his 
friends. He hoped that Dr. Weldon would not 
question him; for he remembered too well the 
day when, coming unexpectedly into the room, 
he had surprised Barnes extracting stones of 
some kind from their settings. 

Dr. Weldon did not mention the matter of 
the money. The identification of the missing 
diamonds seemed to be the point at issue. 

‘‘Mr. Levi brought the diamonds with him. 
I have them in my possession,’^ continued Dr. 
Weldon. “Mr. Barnes acknowledges pawning 
these jewels ; but he denies that they were Mr. 
Watson’s. Furthermore, he refuses to speak 
on the subject. I asked Mr. Watson to step 
into the office this morning. He looked at these 
articles but declared himself unable to say 
whether they are his or not. I am afraid an 
expert will be needed to determine that.” 

Bruce stood fidgeting while Dr. Weldon 
talked. He did not wish the impression left 


220 


LITTLE RHODY 


that he had questioned Barnes ’ veracity, or that 
he would have raised such a commotion, even 
had he been sure the jewels were his. 

‘‘Oh, but Dr. Weldon,’’ he blurted out sud- 
denly. “If Barnes said they are not mine, of 
course they aren’t. Doesn’t that settle the mat- 
ter? Even if they were mine, I don’t care about 
them now. As far as I’m concerned, the whole 
thing can be settled right here. It’s a good 
thing for me that I haven’t them. You know 
you always told me that they were not suited to 
a man of my age.” 

A smile flitted over the face of the listeners. 
“A man of his age.” Bruce was wearing his 
Norfolk jacket. His breeches came just to the 
cap of his knees. He looked even younger than 
he was. 

“We all appreciate the spirit which prompted 
you to that speech, Mr. Watson. But your gen- 
erosity would not free Mr. Barnes from the im- 
putation brought against him. He is either 
guilty or innocent. I am sure he does not wish 
a doubt to linger in the minds of anyone regard- 


LITTLE RHODY 


221 


ing his honesty. If we leave the matter unset- 
tled now, it may he brought up against him at 
any time. Mrs. Ehen has expressed herself 
strongly on the subject. I wish her to present 
her facts — if facts they are — and Mr. Barnes 
may refute them. If the impressions which she 
has received are false, it is as well that her mind 
be rid of them at once. The same is true of 
Mr. Lloyd. 

At the mention of his name, ^^Miss Lloyd” 
fidgeted about, making little nervous move- 
ments with his head and hands, all the while 
grinning like a ^‘Chessy cat.” 

With little importuning, Mrs. Ehen waddled 
forward and seated herself near Dr. Weldon’s 
desk. Then she began the recital of her sus- 
picions. Dr. Weldon exercised much tact in 
keeping her to the mere relation of what she 
really knew, rather than what she imagined. 

She told that she had seen Barnes with the 
pins in his hands. They had disappeared a few 
hours later. He, too, had been responsible for 
the loss of the master-key. Two of the rooms 


222 


LITTLE RHODY 


from which articles had been missed had been 
locked by their occupants. The master-key 
alone could open them. 

She added a great deal that was foreign to 
the matter in hand. She had much to say of 
Barnes’ manner. She could not say that he 
ever had been discourteous; but he plainly 
showed that he did not desire more of her pres- 
ence that her position as matron warranted. 
All the while she was talking, she panted for 
breath and jingled her bunch of keys. 

Then ‘‘Miss Lloyd” told his tale of woe. He 
pursed his lips into a pout and looked babyishly 
about him, at the same time trying to appear 
confident and fearless. But nevertheless he was 
afraid of Shafter. He did not know just what 
Shatter might do to him; but he feared his 
straightforwardness and honesty. He was a 
little sneak. Perhaps he dreaded being found 
out more than anything else. He repeated his 
story as he had told it before to Shafter. It 
might not have been much to Barnes ’ discredit, 
but at this critical moment, it had weight. 


LITTLE RHODY 


223 


When they had finished, Shatter spoke. His 
bearing and voice was scornful of both Mrs. 
Ehen and Lloyd, although in words he wholly 
ignored them. 

‘‘Dr. Weldon, I’m a good bit like Watson. 
This is a whole lot of racket for nothing. I 
know that Barnes did not touch my money. I 
know who did, and where it is this moment. 
I did not know until two or three days ago.” 

“WTiy did you keep quiet about it?” asked 
Dr. Weldon. “You should have told of.it being 
found.” 

“I don’t mean that I found it in my own pos- 
session. It really was taken. I did not tell, 
because I did not wish to harm the person who 
took it. But isn’t it reasonable to suppose that 
the same person took the money and dia- 
monds?” 

“Yes; I think so.” 

Shatter ’s face lighted up. He saw in his 
mind Barnes freed from all suspicion. 

“If you’ll excuse me. Dr. Weldon, I’ll have 
both person and money here.” 


224 


LITTLE RHODY 


He was already at the door and gone before 
Dr. Weldon could grant his permission. 

Silence followed after his departure. Lloyd 
edged over as though about to join the little 
group which stood near Dr. Weldon. But a sud- 
den turn of Watson’s head in his direction and a 
flash of Watson’s eye made him change his 
mind. Mrs. Ehen’s labored breathing was all 
that broke the perfect silence. Shatter was 
absent only a few minutes, but it seemed hours 
before he opened the door, bearing in his hand 
the soiled handkerchief wrapped about the 
money. Close at his heels followed Bernard 
Clark. The poor half-witted fellow grinned 
upon the assemblage. He knew not for what 
purpose he had been brought there; but he 
thought it was a festive occasion. 

Shatter walked to Dr. Weldon’s desk, and 
laid down the money. ‘‘It is just the same 
amount and same bills as mine,” he said. 
“Besides, he’s wrapped it up in Watson’s hand- 
kerchief. By the merest chance I saw him 
counting it one day in the workshop. Perhaps 


LITTLE RHODY 


225 


he’ll tell where he got it and where the pins are. 
Bernard, come here.” 

Bernard quitted his position at the door, and 
advanced with hat in hand, while a grin spread 
from side to side of his face. 

‘‘I’m just like one of the school men,” he 
chuckled, “I’m called up before the Doctor, just 
like them. I need a cap and gown. Then I’ll 
be all right.” 

“You are all right now, Bernard,” said Dr. 
Weldon kindly. “You know how much the 
school depends upon you. Where did you get 
all this money, Bernard?” 

“Down on a shelf in the workshop. Some- 
one put it there.” 

“Who, Bernard?” 

“I did.” He smiled affably, well-pleased 
with himself at having done anything so bright 
as that. 

“But where did you get it before you put it 
there, Bernard?” 

Bernard shook his head from side to side. 


15 


226 


LITTLE RHODY 


His face was void of expression. ‘‘I don’t 
know,” he replied. 

‘‘Think about it. You can remember then.” 

Bernard let his head droop. He rubbed his 
forehead again and again. Suddenly he remem- 
bered a little of what was gone. He raised his 
head and grinned. “Someone gave it to me,” 
he said. 

“I knew you could remember, Bernard, if you 
would try. Who did you say gave it to you I” 

Again came the blank expression. He went 
through the same physical movements and 
mental struggles as before, but this time he was 
unsuccessful ; he failed to remember. 

“ ’Deed, Dr. Weldon, I don’t know who. But 
it was someone. They told me to give it to 
someone else and I forget who it was. That’s 
why I kept it down in my shop. And every day 
I look at it to be sure it is there.” 

Shafter was disappointed. All his efforts on 
behalf of his friend were making matters worse. 
A peculiarity of Bernard’s mind was that the 
fragments which he remembered, he remem- 


LITTLE RHODY 


227 


bered distinctly; nor conld any amount of per- 
suasion make him change his story. He had no 
opinions of his own to express. Those who 
heard him now believed that he was telling the 
truth as far as he knew it. There could be no 
doubt that the one who had stolen the money 
had, when the investigation began some weeks 
before, passed it to this poor half-witted fellow 
with the idea that suspicion would fall on him. 
The thief, then, had been the weakest kind of a 
coward ! 

‘^Was it someone about The Hall who gave it 
to you?” continued Dr. Weldon, hoping by his 
questioning to lead Bernard’s mind back to the 
subject. Bernard wagged his head in reply. 

“I don’t know anyone else but the people at 
The Hall and the old ladies over at the County 
Home, ’ ’ he chuckled. ‘ ‘ And they wouldn ’t give 
it to me, would they? I’m the one that carries 
things to them.” 

Again his statement was correct. The only 
trips he took from The Hall were to carry small 


228 


LITTLE RHODY 


donations of fruit and jellies to the poorhouse, 
which was fully five miles distant. 

It was useless to question him further. He 
had told all he could. 

‘‘Well, Bernard, that will be all. This money 
belongs to Mr. Shatter. I shall keep it for him. 
You may go back to your work. If you should 
remember who gave you the money, come to me 
at once,” said Dr. Weldon. 

Bernard grinned at the Doctor and wagged 
his head. “Ill tell you anything. Doctor. You 
and I have always been great friends.” Ber- 
nard’s speech was grammatical. Whether he 
had picked it up from his associations of The 
Hall, or whether he had been well drilled in 
expression some time before he came to The 
Hall it was hard to tell. He observed the tri- 
fling technicalities of good English, and rarely 
descended into the more common forms of 
speech. 

He turned and was about to leave the room, 
when his eyes fell upon Barnes, whom he had 
not before observed. He chuckled aloud. Then 


LITTLE RHODY 


229 


whispered so audibly that everyone about heard, 
am not going to tell, Mr. Barnes. I don’t 
intend telling anyone.” 

With that he quitted the room, closing the 
door after him. 

“Tell what?” asked Dr. Weldon, turning to- 
ward Barnes. “What does that poor fellow 
mean?” 

The demon of rage was filling Barnes’ heart. 
He controlled himself admirably, although his 
lips grew white and trembled. He stepped for- 
ward to the desk and stood facing both his 
friends and those who had accused him. 

‘ ‘ Means ? ” he said. ‘ ‘ It means whatever you 
choose to have it mean ! You would not believe 
me in one instance. Then why would you be- 
lieve me in this? I declared that I knew noth- 
ing of other men’s property. The mere ques- 
tioning me on such a matter is an insult ! My 
visit to Levi’s, and my transactions with Ber- 
nard have been nothing but honorable. That I 
refuse to discuss them is not that I am ashamed, 
but that I consider that no one has a right to 


230 


LITTLE RHODY 


question me on matters which concern no one 
but myself. If my reputation for truth has been 
resting on the word of a servant and a news 
carrier, it is better that it fall to pieces at once.’’ 

Even his friends stood aghast at his bold- 
ness. In the excitement, everyone had forgot- 
ten Petriken, who sat hunched up in an easy 
chair, almost hidden from view. As Barnes 
was about to quit the room, a cry came from the 
little cripple. He reached out his hands as 
though to detain this man whom he so much 
admired. 

‘ ‘ Barnes ! Barnes ! Wait ! ” 

Barnes turned. His voice and manner soften- 
ed as he spoke. ‘ ‘Well, what is it, Petriken ? ’ ’ 

Petriken stood on his feet. He was quiver- 
ing with excitement. The muscles of his face 
jerked and twitched. The picture of him stand- 
ing there, deformed, a dwarf, was enough to 
melt a harder heart than that of Barnes. He 
came closer. 

“What is it, youngster? Don’t mind this on 



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LITTLE RHODY 


231 


my account. I’ll stand it. Yon ’ll mal^e your- 
self sick. It will all come right sometime.” 

“I must mind it. I must care. I am the one 
who should suffer. I took the money and the 
pins. ’ ’ 

‘‘You!” came with a shout from the others. 
Petriken nodded. “Yes; I gave Barnes the 
stones to pawn for me. That is why he would 
not tell.” 

Barnes took him by the shoulder. “This 
excitement has turned his head,” he cried. “He 
don’t know what he’s saying. He didn’t give 
me the stones at all. ’ ’ 

Petriken looked fearlessly up into his face. 

“You know I did. It is useless now, Barnes, 
denying it. It was noble in you to try to shield 
me.” 

With this, he fell back again in the chair, and 
began to weep bitterly. Dr. Weldon motioned 
them from the room. Silently the boys departed. 
Petriken sobbed on. After a while, he spoke, 
partly to himself, and partly to Dr. Weldon. 

“This is once I am glad my mother is not 


232 


LITTLE RHODY 


living. She could not have borne the disgrace. 
And now 1^11 have to leave The Hall, and it’s 
the very best place I’ve ever been.” Then he 
began to cry aloud. 

Dr. Weldon pretended absorption in the let- 
ters lying on the desk, and let the boy have his 
cry out. 


CHAPTER IX. 


The attitude of Dr. Weldon toward Petriken 
and his crime surprised the men of The Hall. 
The subject did not again come up between 
them. His manner toward the boy was one of 
respectful tenderness. Had Petriken been his 
own son, and a son whose acts could reflect only 
credit upon the parent, Dr. Weldon could not 
have shown more consideration and kindness. 

As for Petriken himself, he either had no 
sense of shame or developed wonderful self- 
control. A new expression came to his face 
which, in a measure, robbed it of its pained look. 
His manner partook of a joyousness which was 
new to him. There had come no reaction from 
the strain he had undergone. Never before had 
he appeared so bright, so light-hearted. He did 
not keep from meeting the other students, as 
most boys would have done. He mingled freely 


234 


LITTLE RHODY 


with them, following Barnes with admiring 
eyes. 

He had no home to which he could go. His 
brothers were busy men, absorbed all day in 
work of their own. 

At his earnest request. Hr. Weldon did not 
communicate with them concerning the disgrace 
of this youngest member of the family. 

He agreed with Petriken that such a course 
would be unnecessary, as Hr. Peirce, his 
father ^s friend, was his guardian. Hr. Weldon 
wrote at once to him. 

It had long been a custom at The Hall that 
when it was necessary to communicate with a 
parent or guardian concerning a student, the 
student had the privilege of reading the letter 
before it was mailed. 

But in this instance. Hr. Weldon broke the 
time-honored custom. Petriken knew not what 
had been written to Hr. Peirce concerning him. 

He was to remain at school until a reply was 
received from his guardian, which would be in 
a day or so. 


LITTLE RHODY 


235 


Meanwhile, he slowly put his possessions in 
order, ready to pack at a moment’s notice. He 
spent much of the time with Bernard Clark, 
telling him with enthusiasm of his guardian’s 
home, the beautiful garden about it, the many 
kinds of flowers, and how Dr. Peirce studied 
them, knowing their names and their medicinal 
value. 

Bernard listened patiently, making no sign 
that he heard or heeded until, when Petriken 
grew eloquent, he wagged his head from side 
to side, and his face took on its knowing expres- 
sion as he asked, ‘‘Does he know the difference 
between the ampelopsis quinquefolia and the 
ampelopsis trefoil? There’ll be trouble if he 
doesn’t.” 

“I suppose he does. He knows everything 
about plants which anyone can know. I don’t 
know what you mean by those big words; but 
he would. I don’t see how there could be 
trouble, even if he didn’t know the difference.” 

Bernard chuckled and looked up at Petriken 
with a sly, furtive look. 


236 


LITTLE RHODY 


‘‘The one with the three leaves is poison,’’ he 
said. “Touching it with the hands, or even if 
the leaves brush the face, causes trouble. That’s 
why I chuckled.” 

Both evenings during his enforced stay at 
The Hall, Shatter, Watson, and Adams dropped 
in, during rest hour, to visit him. They made 
no mention of his leaving, or of the scene which 
had been enacted in the office. Shatter was his 
old nonsensical self, laughing, teasing, and sing- 
ing songs of his own composition. On these oc- 
casions, he carried his guitar with him, striking 
a few chords or improvising music to suit his 
words. One string was missing, and the others 
were more often out of tune than in; but little 
matters as these never fased Shatter. He sang 
for the sake of self-expression, not for music. 

The second evening, when he came into Pet- 
riken’s and Barnes’ room, brimming over with 
an excess of spirits, he found the two men pack- 
ing. Barnes looked as though he were prepar- 
ing to attend a funeral, so lugubrious was his 
expression. He was packing Petriken’s books. 


LITTLE RHODY 


237 


while the youngster himself sat curled up on the 
bed watching him. He greeted his visitors with 
a smile. 

“Come in,’^ he cried, “and look at Barnes 
driving nails in that box. He looks so vindic- 
tive. Perhaps he thinks he^s nailing Mrs. Ehen 
and ‘Miss Lloyd’ in.” 

“I’d like to do that very thing,” said Barnes 
grimly, hammering away at the nails and not 
stopping to glance up. “I’d ship them to the 
Philippines or the Antipodes — whichever place 
is farthest off.” 

The men came in. Claude flung himself on 
the couch to watch proceedings. Watson, im- 
maculate as ever, stood near the box of books 
watching Barnes, and now and then throwing in 
a word of advice or encouragement which 
Barnes ignored. Shatter drew himself up on 
the edge of the dresser, his long legs dangling 
to the floor. He put his guitar in position and 
cleared his throat — two ominous signs. His 
friends interpreted them rightly. 

“Can nothing stop him?” asked Barnes. 


238 


LITTLE RHODY 


‘‘Nothing but lockjaw/’ said Sliafter. “I 
mean to sing. What was that we had in lit. 
class, about “Alas, for some who never sing, 
and die with all their music in themT’ 

“Well, Shatter, ’’said Claude, yawning, “you 
must belong to that set. You’ll die with all your 
music in you, at least you never give any out.” 

“Swans sing before they die — ” began Shat- 
ter impressively, strumming a chord on his 
guitar. 

“And you’ll die immediately after you sing,” 
said Claude. “Who was fool enough. Shatter, 
to give you a guitar, anyhow?” 

‘ ‘ My father, ’ ’ proudly. 

Claude sighed again as he said, “That ac- 
counts for it. He thought you’d be over it be- 
fore you came back home. In our town, we 
have laws to dispose of public nuisances.” 

“Is that why they sent you here?” asked 
Shatter sweetly. 

Claude laughed. He saw the point of a joke 
and appreciated it none the less because it was 
directed toward himself. 


LITTLE RHODY 


239 


going away to-morrow morning,” be- 
gan Petriken. “That’s why Barnes is packing 
my books. I’m going to my guardian’s.” 

“Are yon?” asked Watson as though this 
was indeed news to him. ‘ ‘ Going to stay long ? ’ ’ 

“ No ; ” said Barnes, ‘ ‘ he will not stay long. ’ ’ 

“We didn’t think he would,” added Shatter. 

“Why do you talk so?” Petriken asked. 
“You know why I go, and that there is little 
possibility of me ever coming back.” 

“Listen,” said Shatter, “perhaps this will 
tell you.” He struck a chord with no two 
strings in tune, then threw back his head and 
sang: 

“A whale wandered off in the deep salt sea. 

And his mother cried out in despair. 

Her eyes filled up with briny tears. 

As she tore her fiowing hair. 

“Oh, where, oh, where, is my little whale gone, 

Oh, where, oh, where, can he be. 

He weighed hut a ton, he was ten feet long. 

Oh, where, oh, where, is he? 

“A small trout had seen him go swimming by. 

Along with a mermaid fair. 

The little trout knew he’d never come back. 

So she pitied his poor mother. 


240 


LITTLE RHODY 


“The little trout said to her own little self, 

’Twould be better by far to think he is dead. 

Than to know he’s run off with a little mermaid. 

So she turned to the mother and said, 

“I know where your little whale’s gone, . 

I know where, I know where is he. 

I was hungry only a minute ago, 

And I swallowed your whale for tea.” 

“I know where, I know where, your little whale’s gone, 
I know where, I know where, is he. 

I’m six inches long, he weighed only a ton. 

So I swallowed him whole for tea.” 


Petriken’s face flushed while Shafter sang. 
When the song was finished, he crawled down 
from the bed, and crossing to where Barnes 
was busy, made a pretense of helping him. 
“There goes the study-bell,’’ he said. “I sup- 
pose I won’t see you men in the morning. So 
I’ll bid you good-bye here.” 

“No; you won’t say good-bye now,” said 
Claude. “We give all the men a good send-off. 
We’ll be on hand to-morrow, and do what we 
can to make your start joyful. WTiat train do 
you leave on?” ' 

“I’ll drive. It takes longer, but Bernard 


LITTLE RHODY 


241 


Clark is going with me. He does not like the 
cars ; so Dr. Weldon made arrangements for ns 
to drive, if the day is fair. ^ ^ 

‘‘Bernard going? What will The Hall do 
without him?’’ 

‘ ‘ I don ’t know. But he hasn ’t been well. Dr. 
Weldon said he was almost afraid he would be 
compelled to send him away. He is acting 
rather queer. Some of the new men have been 
annoying him. It will be quiet at Dr. Peirce’s, 
and he can give treatment. I’m glad he’s go- 
ing with me. He will keep me in touch with 
The Hall. We’ll spend hours talking of you 
men, and the botanizing trips, and the Union 
and all that.” 

“Well, we’ll be around to see you off. We 
must give Bernard a good send-otf. We’ll miss 
him as much as we would miss the Doctor him- 
self. Bernard seemed a fixture. I never 
thought that he might go away. We’ll see you 
all right, Petriken, in the morning.” 

The following morning Petriken and Bernard 
departed, with a score of men to see them off. 


16 


242 


LITTLE RHODY 


Poor Bernard never before realized that be 
bad so many friends. Even Barnes was moved, 
and wrung tbe poor fellow’s band as tbougb 
loatb to let bim go. Tbe men did not give tbe 
school yell. This was no festive occasion — for 
altbougb they tried to blind themselves to tbe 
fact, Petriken was leaving in disgrace. So they 
refrained from tbe usual demonstrations. They 
shook bim by tbe band, and wished bim good 
luck. Then they stood in a little group on tbe 
triangle and watched tbe two drive away, one 
a physical, tbe other a mental wreck. 

Tbe drive to Dr. Peirce’s home led through 
small patches of woods and by tbe fields of tbe 
truck farmers. Tbe trees were bare of foliage. 
Tbe fields were browned by tbe heavy frosts. 
Tbe only bit of color was tbe yellow of a few 
stray pumpkins which lay in tbe open field. 

Tbe moment tbe great stone walls of Tbe 
Hall were lost to sight, and tbe voices of tbe 
men could not be beard, Petriken ’s light-heart- 
edness left bim. He crouched among tbe soft 
cushions and fell to thinking of what was going 


LITTLE RHODY 


243 


on back at school. He watched the time, and 
said to himself, ‘‘Now Barnes is going in to 
mathematics,’’ or “If I were there now, I’d be 
about reciting my Latin.” 

He gave no attention to Bernard’s flow of 
conversation. The poor fellow rambled on 
about everything they passed on their way. So 
they drove all the morning. At noon, they drew 
up before a shabby little farm-house. The place 
had a dilapidated look throughout. The house 
was weather-beaten. Glass was missing from 
the windows. The walks were broken, and a 
mass of dead weeds about the front yard 
showed that no attention had been given to it. 

‘ ‘ It doesn ’t look very inviting, ’ ’ said Petriken, 
as Bernard helped him to alight. “If there was 
any place else near, we would drive on.” 

“It’s the only place for miles,” he replied. 
“And this is where the Doctor told me to stop 
— a little old white house to the left of the road, 
just after we crossed the iron bridge. I guess 
I don’t forget everything that’s told me.” He 
wagged his head and chuckled. “And he gave 


244 


LITTLE RHODY 


me two silver dollars. I was to ask for dinner 
for two, and water the horse. Then we were to 
rest awhile and go on, and I was to give them 
the money. ’ ’ 

Petriken stood at the gate, which was hanging 
on one hinge. In the yard, a lonely cow, so thin 
that her ribs could be counted, browsed among 
the frost-bitten leaves. 

^^WhaPs their name, Bernard?’^ he asked. 

Bernard wobbled his head from side to side. 
‘ don T know. The Doctor didn’t tell me. Let’s 
call them Smith.” He smiled at Petriken, well 
pleased with the brilliancy of the suggestion. 

‘‘We’ll wait. Perhaps, they’ll tell us their 
name,” said Petriken. He was hobbling up the 
broken walk to the front door as he spoke. The 
ride had tired him. The excitement which had 
sustained him for the several days past had 
forsaken him. He felt limp, and wretched, and 
homesick, and lonely. His face was twitching 
nervously. 

“I’m afraid I can’t make it alone, Bernard,” 
he faltered, Bernard grinned and without fur- 


LITTLE RHODY 


245 


ther speech took him up in his arms. In this 
fashion, they passed through the unkempt yard 
to the front door. 

‘‘You’re very good, Bernard,” he said, “and 
you are very careful for one so strong. You 
didn’t touch a spot that hurt.” 

“That’s because I’ve done it before,” he said, 
with his expansive grin. “I used to carry — 
carry — ” He looked down into the boy’s eyes. 
All the smiling happiness of the poor fellow’s 
face disappeared. He looked like one bewild- 
ered ; one whose mind was struggling to break 
through a barrier. His lips quivered. His voice 
quavered as he said hopelessly, “There, it is 
gone again. I can’t remember who it was I 
carried. Who was it? Do you know? But I 
was always careful, very careful. Do you re- 
member who it was?” 

“No ; Bernard, I do not know. I wish I did,” 
he replied gently. “Perhaps, some time, we’ll 
remember all about it.” 

Further conversation was prevented by the 
appearance of a woman who came in response 


246 


LITTLE RHODY 


to their knock. She was a tall, spare woman, 
far past middle age. She was as straight as a 
poplar tree, and as rigid. Her hair was drawn 
tightly back from her face, and rolled in a lit- 
tle wad at the back of her head. Her calico 
frock was short and scant. Her expression was 
that of one who had long struggled with adver- 
sity, and at length had settled down into a state 
of contented hopelessness. 

‘ ‘ Come in, ’ ’ she said, without waiting to hear 
their explanation. ‘‘YouVe come over from 
The Hall. The Doctor left word you’d be along, 
and that I was to make yon comfortable.” 
There was a dreary monotony to the tones of 
her voice, which neither rose nor fell by so much 
as half a tone. She opened the door, and 
stepped aside for them to enter. ‘ ‘ Go into the 
parlor and make yourselves at home. IVe 
water boiling and it won’t take me long to make 
a cup of coffee. Everything else is waiting, but 
I never like my coffee to stand.” While she 
talked, she ushered them into the parlor. As 
she performed this act of courtesy, her manner 


LITTLE RHODY 


247 


showed a trace of elation. She was proud of 
her parlor. Its furnishing had been accom- 
plished after years of self-denial and planning. 

As soon as her guests were seated, she ex- 
cused herself and went into the kitchen. Pet- 
riken looked about him hopelessly. He was 
growing more depressed and homesick for The 
Hall with every passing moment. The furnish- 
ings of this best room had neither the effect of 
enlivening nor quieting one’s nerves. The red 
plush chairs were obtrusively prominent. The 
chenille lambrequins and draperies excluded 
every particle of fresh air. To make the general 
effect worse, Bernard had seated himself before 
him and sat grinning at him. 

Fortunately, their hostess was not long mak- 
ing the coffee. She returned soon to tell them 
they might step into the kitchen. With a feel- 
ing of relief at his escape from the mass of 
camphorated furniture in the parlor, Petriken 
hobbled after her, while Bernard, with his ex- 
pansive smile, and chuckling to himself, brought 
up the rear. The kitchen was a far more cheer- 


248 


LITTLE RHODY 


ful room than the one they had jnst quitted. 
The place was clean and bright, though bare of 
everything except the mere necessities. A table 
had been set in one end of the room, at which 
Petriken and Bernard took their places. Their 
hostess did not partake of the meal with them, 
but waited on her guests, all the while talking 
in her dreary, hopeless voice. 

‘^Yes,” she said, taking up the conversation 
where she had stopped some minutes before, 
‘^the Doctor sent me word by Kline’s milk- 
wagon that you’d be along sometime about noon 
to-day, and said I was to set a bite before you. 
I was more than willing to do it, for the Doctor’s 
been a friend to us, if any one has. He hain’t 
a bit proud. He’s as common and nice as can 
be. He used to come out pretty often, while my 
man was sick. He died a year or more ago. I 
was alone tending to him, and all the men here- 
abouts were busy getting in their hay. They 
didn’t dare let it go for a rain might come up. 
None of the farmers about here has much, and 
not a one of them could stand losing their crops. 


LITTLE RHODY 


249 


So I couldn^t get any one to sit up with him, 
for love or money. Not but what they were will- 
ing enough, but they had their own to think of 
first. They couldnT take the bread out of their 
own children’s mouths to help me. The Doctor 
drove by one day, and saw how matters stood. 
It was just as I was drawing a cup of tea for 
my supper. He sat right down and done what 
he could. He staid up all night with him. I went 
to bed and had the first good sleep I’d had for 
weeks. I slept late next morning, for I was 
fairly tuckered out. When I went down to the 
kitchen, I just sat down and cried like a baby. 
For there was the fire built, coffee made, and 
bacon frying. It had been years since I’d 
touched a bite that I hadn’t cooked up myself. 
Have another cup of coffee? It will keep you 
up.” 

Her flow of talk paused while she poured a 
second cup of coffee for Petriken. He was too 
tired to relish the food she put before him, but 
satisfied his appetite, and stimulated himself 
with strong coffee. Bernard looked neither to 


250 


LITTLE RHODY 


the right nor left. His time and attention were 
absorbed in his meal, which he was disposing 
of in a manner calculated to tickle the vanity of 
the most ambitious cooks. If he heard what his 
hostess said, he gave no heed. After a moment 
of silence she began again. 

‘‘He seemed to see how bad otf he was with- 
out my saying a word. He went away right 
after breakfast. He didn’t say a word about 
doing anything for us, or coming back again. 
He hain’t that kind, they tell me, to make much 
use of words. But from that time on he seemed 
to take account of me. First thing I knew, he 
had Thurston taken to the hospital, where he 
was took better care of than here, and I went 
along and stayed in town, with a friend of the 
Doctor’s, helping cook and wash dishes for my 
keep. It was a godsend to me, for I worried a 
heap, and I knew I couldn’t be content to have 
Thurston off there alone.” 

Bernard turned suddenly to look at her. His 
lower jaw fell while he gazed upon her as 
though she were some rare specimen of human- 


LITTLE RHODY 


251 


ity, new to him. “Thurston — Thurston — Thur- 
ston/’ he repeated again and again. “That’s a 
queer name. Whose name is Thurston?” 

“That’s mine. I’m about the last left of the 
family. Jim, he was my man, was an only child. 
His folks all died off years ago, until there’s 
only a few left scattered over the country. But 
there was a time when they was well known and 
prosperous. All this valley was theirs once. 
They had everything their own way in those 
days, and lived like princes, driving good horses 
and going from one end of the country to the 
other. But Jim’s father was sort of doless. He 
was never what you’d call fore-handed. And 
Jim seemed to take after him. It wasn’t that 
he was lazy, for a man never worked harder. 
But he was unfortunate-like and unlucky. He 
never seemed to get ahead somehow, though 
time and again he was just on the point of get- 
ting on well. 

“I remember as well as though it was yester- 
day, the spring he took to putting in logs. He 
had a dozen men in the woods working for him 


252 


LITTLE RHODY 


and I went along to cook for them. He hauled 
the logs up on Stout’s flat, and piled them up 
there. He meant right along to send the men 
in to stamp them, but somehow he let it go from 
day to day. Then one night a storm came up 
sudden. The ice in the river jammed back on 
the flats. It wasn’t safe then for anyone to fool 
with the logs. The water backed up for two 
days. I stood over on the hill and watched it 
rising every minute. When the jam was broke 
below, the ice and water went back into the 
river, and took the logs right along like so many 
straws. That’s when we lost the upper wood- 
lands, for we’d gone in debt to pay the men, 
and get provisions to feed them and the horses. 
I was downhearted enough myself, for I’d 
worked like a nigger all winter, but I had to 
keep up so Thurston wouldn’t give up.” 

Thurston! Thurston! Thurston!” repeated 
Bernard. ^‘Who is Thurston!” 

The woman looked at him in surprise. 

“Don’t pay any attention to Bernard,” said 
Petriken. “He forgets names sometimes, and 
that is a way he has of remembering.” 


LITTLE RHODY 


253 


don’t forget everything,” said Bernard, 
remember part — ^not all, only part. I used 
to remember everything that was told me, but 
that was before I ever came to The Hall. That 
was when I went about in a long gown and sang 
for people, and had a whole lot of men carry me 
on their shoulders, and yell until they were 
hoarse. They’d yell, ‘Allee-allee.’ No; that 
wasn’t it.” 

The hostess stepped back of him and shook 
her head sadly at Petriken. She realized, for 
the first time, that Bernard was not mentally 
sound. 

forget what it was that they yelled,” he 
said. wish I could remember. I’ve been 
trying to remember a whole host of things, but 
I get a pain here,” he laid his hand on his head, 
above and back of his ear. ^ ^ So I gave up try- 
ing to remember. But I remember about Mrs. 
Thurston. I was to bring something nice to you 
— ^not to-day, but some other time.” 

He glanced up at her. His face took on its 
crafty, leering expression. At such times, Ber- 


254 


LITTLE RHODY 


nard was not a pleasing companion. His face 
grew repulsive. Fortunately these moods rare- 
ly came, and quickly passed. ‘‘Some one told 
me to give something to Mrs. Thurston, along 
the turnpike road, past the iron bridge. I re- 
member now. Thurston was the name.” 

Mrs. Thurston looked anxious. “It can’t be 
that someone’s given him something for me, and 
he’s lost it?” she said. 

“No; Mrs. Thurston,” said Petriken. “I 
don’t think it is that. Dr. Weldon was with us 
when we started. He made no mention of any 
special errand. No one else at The Hall would 
send you a message by him. No one but Dr. 
Weldon knew we were coming by the turnpike. 
He’s just talking. Your name is new to him. 
Perhaps he’s trying to connect it with some one 
else by that name. ’ ’ 

“Mebbe that’s so. I’d feel bad enough to 
have anything sent to me, and me not get it. 
But, of course, since no one knew you was com- 
ing this way, it couldn’t be that anything was 
sent.^’^ 


LITTLE RHODY 


255 


A shade of disappointment passed over her 
face. A message or a present to her would have 
made a gala day of the bluest Monday. These 
two guests stopping by the way to eat with her 
was quite an event. She had looked forward to 
it since she received the word from Dr. Weldon. 
She would look back to it again and again, in 
her mind, for many days to come. 

‘‘The name shouldn’t be new to him,” she 
continued. “For there’s a Thurston at The Hall 
now, and has been since school opened. ’ ’ 

“Indeed. That’s strange. I’ve been there 
since the first day, and I’ve met no man by that 
name.” 

“I don’t mean going to school. But my niece 
is one of the help there. She has made her 
home with me the last year, until the Doctor 
got her a place there. It hain’t hard work and 
she gets plenty to eat, and money to clothe her- 
self, and the matron and students are good to 
her, always giving her little presents, or paying 
her extra for sweeping up their rooms between 
times. Lo never worked much at home, but 


256 


LITTLE BHODY 


sweeping where there hain’t carpets hain’t 
hard.” 

A light flashed over Petriken’s face. ‘‘That 
must be the new girl,” he said. “We don’t 
see much of the servants for they are supposed 
to put our rooms in order while we’re in class. 
But I heard some one say there was a new 
sweeper whose name was Lo. I don’t know 
how they learned that much. I never heard her 
last name.” 

“Lola Thurston. But we call her Lo. It’s 
shorter, and when folks is rushed with work 
every little counts. She comes home over Sun- 
day every other week, and always brings a little 
gift with her, from the matron or one of the 
students. They must be as grand a set there 
as you’d see in a day’s travel. That little dish 
there with the jell in it was what she brought 
home the last time.” 

Petriken turned his attention to the dish. It 
was a dainty little piece of Eoyal Worcester, 
too fine to be in harmony with the coarse linen 
and earthen ware of the table. 


LITTLE RHODY 


257 


‘^Yes; it’s beautiul. Watson, one of my 
friends, had a pin tray just like that. He was 
very proud of it, but it disappeared. He blamed 
Shatter for smashing it. Shatter’s just as apt 
to put his shoes on the dresser as anywhere 
else. They almost had a scrap about it. Shat- 
ter hates to have things of that kind about. He 
says that whenever he goes in a room, all the 
china and cut-glass pieces get up and knock 
themselves against him until smashed into 
bits.” 

‘^Yes; Lo comes home on the market wagons 
every other Saturday, and goes back early on 
Monday morning. We get up long before day- 
light, so as to give her an early start. She’s 
back to The Hall in time to start in sweeping 
with the others. It’s a hurry and a bustle all the 
time she’s here, for we’ve a heap of truck to 
talk over. She went otf so early last time, that 
she forgot half her bundles. Will you be going 
back to The Hall again this week?” 

^‘No;’’ Petriken replied, ‘‘we are leaving The 
Hall forever, we think.” 


17 


258 


LITTLE EHODY 


‘‘Well, now, that is too bad. Although when 
I saw you, I thought you didn^t look strong 
enough to be in school. Learning, they tell me, 
is hard work, although I know of nothing more 
genteel than book learning. I was thinking that 
if you was going back, say to-morrow or, next 
day, I’d send something along with you. She 
may be needing it. For when she comes home 
she is always having it tucked away in the bot- 
tom of her satchel, and, time and again she 
says to me, “Don’t let me forget my key. Aunt 
Ann.’ And here didn’t she walk off that Mon- 
day, and both her and me forget it. I hung it 
up there to be safe.” She nodded her head 
toward the door. Thither Petriken directed his 
attention. On a nail beside the door hung a 
large key of peculiar construction. It was the 
missing master-key. But Petriken, never hav- 
ing seen the master-key, did not recognize it as 
such. Bernard who might have remembered it 
as an article much desired at The Hall was so 
absorbed in making way with a large helping 
of apple-pie, that he was oblivious to all else. 


CHAPTER X. 


The days with Dr. Peirce passed quickly 
enough. The doctor believed in the policy of 
contentment found through work. He was past 
the allotted three-score-years-and-ten, yet he 
was not old. His hair and beard were white, 
but his step was quick, and his mind active. 
There was nothing senile or childish about him. 
Life was as full of interest to him now as when, 
a young man, he had laid his plans for a pro- 
fessional life. 

In his younger days he had been a surgeon of 
reputation; but age had made his hand a trifle 
uncertain. He refused longer to make use of 
the instruments with which he had been skilled. 
He yet continued his studies, and in theory was 
abreast or ahead of the times. During the 
years when his life had been strenuous, when 
many delicate operations were performed by 

259 


260 


LITTLE RHODY 


his hands, he had taken up the study of botany 
as a recreation. He spent his rest hours in the 
fields and woods, throwing from his mind all 
the cares of professional life. 

Now, when age made it impossible to con- 
tinue his career, his love of plants and fiowers 
stood by him. His country home was sur- 
rounded by generous grounds, in which he cul- 
tivated every specie of tree, herb and plant 
which he could persuade to grow in that climate. 
His immense hothouses were filled with tropical 
plants. Here he worked from morning until 
dusk. In the evening, the great library claimed 
his attention. He believed not only in the dig- 
nity of labor, but in it as a practical remedy for 
most of the ills the mind and body is heir to. 

Petriken and Bernard had been with him but 
a few days, when he arranged work to keep 
them employed. 

Bernard was to assist in the rearrangement 
of the hothouses, and have entire supervision of 
one section. Here he was to plant and cultivate 
as he wished. 


LITTLE RHODY 


261 


He undertook the work with great energy. 
The irritability which had lately marked his 
manner at The Hall was gradually leaving him. 
He whistled at his work, and was eager for 
new experiments among the flowers. Here 
again, an irregularity of his mind showed itself. 
He showed not only judgment, but a surpris- 
ing knowledge of plant life. Dr. Peirce invari- 
ably used the botanical names which Bernard 
took up, not as though they were strangers to 
him, but more as though they were old friends 
brought again to his notice. 

“Where did Bernard learn all this technical 
botany r’ he asked one evening, coming into 
the library where Eush Petriken was arrang- 
ing old manuscripts and papers. “They surely 
did not try to teach him at The HallT’ 

“No; but he used to go along when the men 
went out for specimens. They go out there 
early Saturday mornings, and stay all day. 
They cook their own dinner, and come in laden 
with roots and plants. Bernard always made 


262 


LITTLE RHODY 


himself useful, so was welcome. I suppose he 
picked up a little from hearing the men talk.” 

But Dr. Peirce scorned this idea. ‘‘A man 
with all his faculties at their best couldn’t pick 
up what he knows. Besides,” — here the speak- 
er’s eyes twinkled merrily — ‘‘I don’t fancy that 
the men, as you call them at The Hall, knew 
more botany than they could get on without. 
How old was your oldest man there 1 ’ ’ 

‘^Barnes was the oldest. He was eighteen in 
December.” 

“That was last month. My, my, what a set 
of old fogies you must have been up there! 
Had I known of this, I’d have drummed up 
some young fellows my age, and come to enliven 
you. It’s a duty we owe old people, to make 
life as bright for them as possible. How are 
you getting along with the papers? Most of 
those old magazines are worthless now. But 
I saved them at first while a theory was being 
debated. But the questions they brought up 
were settled long ago. They have accumulated 
beyond all reason. But I’ve never had the time 


LITTLE RHODY 


263 


or inclination to sort them over myself and I 
conldn’t trust the housekeeper to do it. Order 
is Mrs. Doerr’s first law. If she had once got- 
ten at them, she would have sacrificed my most 
cherished articles to maintain the orderliness of 
the book cases. Pile all the magazines and 
papers which you are doubtful about in one 
corner, and some evening when we have little 
to do, we’ll go over them.” 

wondered why you saved this,” said 
Petriken, holding up several columns cut from 
a newspaper. The paper was stitf and yellow, 
from lying so long undisturbed. “It’s an 
account of a wreck on the Allegheny Valley. 
Isn’t that the road which comes in over there 
in the valley? I’ve gone over the list of killed 
and wounded, and what a number there was, 
but there are no names that are familiar to 
me. There are no names of your people here. 
Shall I save it?” 

“Yes; perhaps it’s just as well. The affair 
happened about a dozen years ago. There is 
none of my people, but one or two good friends 


264 


LITTLE RHODY 


whose names are there. You’ve heard, of 
course, of Dr. Miller, the surgeon. He had a 
chair in an English University, and was spend- 
ing that summer here, with his wife and only 
son. His wife was an invalid and unable to 
walk. The son was a brilliant young man who 
had just taken his degree. He gave promise of 
excelling his already famous father. They were 
in that wreck. The wife was injured, living 
only a few hours after being taken to the hos- 
pital. The son must have been killed instantly. 
His body was unrecognizable. The only means 
possible for identification was to measure the 
unknown dead.” 

‘‘Was Dr. Miller killed, too? It can’t be the 
same one that the botany teacher is always 
quoting, for he is alive.” 

“So is my friend. Dr. Miller. He had gone 
to the rear of the car to bring his wife a glass 
of water. The cars were what railroad men 
call side-swiped, the front of the car was struck. 
Dr. Miller himself was unhurt. That is why 
that newspaper cutting interested me. I cut out 


LITTLE RHODY 


265 


several copies to send to friends who knew him. 
It gave a fuller account than I could. I was 
spending days and nights then in the hospital, 
and had no time for writing details. Perhaps 
you had better destroy it. No good comes of 
dwelling on such matters now. ’ ’ 

Petriken folded up the paper within the palm 
of his hand. For some reason he felt averse to 
destroying this clipping. 

‘^IFs a good thing Bernard did not hear us 
talking,” he said, ‘‘or he would have taken a 
dozen fits. I almost got into trouble once by 
simply talking about railroads when he was 
about. He won’t stay in any place where he 
can hear an engine whistle.” 

Petriken had been sitting on the library table, 
which position enabled him to reach the shelves 
of magazines and newspapers before him. 

Dr. Peirce took up his evening paper. Draw- 
ing forward a chair that he might receive the 
best light, he adjusted his glasses preparatory 
for an evening’s reading. 

“Well, well,” he said, “it is possible that Ber- 


266 


LITTLE RHODY 


nard, like the rest of ns, has his little fancies. 
I would not have supposed it. I thought him 
one of those happy mortals who took life as it 
came and never troubled themselves with dis- 
liking anything.’’ 

In another instant, Dr. Peirce would have be- 
gun his reading, and for that evening been obliv- 
ious to all else, but Petriken spoke again before 
the doctor had time to glance at the head lines. 

don’t believe any one would like what 
knocked the senses out of him. Bernard was 
in the wreck. That’s what makes him so 
queer.” 

‘‘How’s that?” queried the doctor. The 
paper had dropped from his hands at the ques- 
tion. He removed his eye-glasses, holding them 
before him, a little mannerism he had when in- 
terested. ‘ ‘ How ’s that ? Say that again. ’ ’ 

Petriken turned about on the table so as to 
face his interlocutor. “Why, I thought you 
knew about Bernard. He’s a mystery. No one 
knows where he came from, or what his real 
name is. But no one really thinks it Bernard 


LITTLE RHODY 


267 


Clark. He says himself he just thought of that, 
when asked, his name. last fall, he took 

a notion that the boys should call him ‘Doctor 
Clark.’ He’s so queer when he gets excited. 
But everyone thinks it was that big wreck which 
set him crazy. He must have seen the cars jam, 
or perhaps he might have been one of the 
operators who made the mistake about the mes- 
sage. ’ ’ 

“Probably the latter. But how did he be- 
come employed at The Hall?” 

Petriken related the story as it had been told 
to him of a man, emaciated and weak from 
hunger, begging something to eat from the 
masons who were building an addition to The 
Hall ; that he knew not his name, or from where 
he came, only that he had been sleeping some- 
where in a barn; the sight of a train of cars, 
or the whistling of an engine, were the only 
things that disturbed him. His manner and 
dress declared him to be no tramp. 

“But don’t ask him any questions about it. 
Dr. Peirce,!’ continued Petriken. “Because he 


268 


LITTLE RHODY 


can’t remember, and if he tries, it will make 
him ill. You will feel sorry for him when he 
tries to remember. He gets a pain in his head. 
I’d just let him forget. What difference does 
it make anyhow, whether he remembers or 
whether he doesn’t? He couldn’t be any hap- 
pier than he is now.” 

‘‘Perhaps not,” responded the doctor, smiling 
in spite of himself, at the youngster’s giving 
him this caution. “I’ll proceed very cautiously 
when I talk to Bernard. There’s where you 
‘men’ have the advantage over us young fel- 
lows. We’re apt to be rash, while years of 
experience have made you discreet.” 

Petriken laughed. He enjoyed Dr. Peirce’s 
droll humor, his way of ridiculing the conceit 
and vanities of these school boys. “I wish 
Shatter was here,” he said. “He does enjoy a 
joke. He’d be making up songs about what you 
say and singing them.” 

“Then I’m glad that Mr. Shatter hasn’t hon- 
ored us. Push. I wouldn’t object to his making 
up songs if he wouldn’t sing them. There’s 


LITTLE RHODY 


269 


two things that should be kept to yourself. 
They are your home-made poetry, and home- 
made pills. Neither may prove fatal, but they 
are bitter enough to take.’’ 

The doctor chuckled. Then enclosing his 
eye-glasses within their case, he slipped them 
into his vest pocket, folded up his paper and was 
about to quit the room. 

“Are you not going to read this evening*?” 
asked Petriken. This putting away of books 
and papers so early was new on the part of the 
doctor. 

“Yes, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t care 
to read this evening. ’Tis the fickleness of 
youth. No habits of industry formed. We go 
from one thing to another, like butterflies. Per- 
haps you were the same when you were my 
age. I hope the years will bring steadiness 
with them. ’ ’ 

He laughed again, quitting the room without 
giving Petriken an opportunity to reply. 

Contrary to his habit Dr. Peirce went out 
into the hothouses where he knew he could find 


270 


LITTLE RHODY 


Bernard putting the place in order for the 
night. "When he entered he found the man bent 
over, adjusting the valves of the steam-pipes. 

‘‘It’s going to be very cold tonight, doctor,” 
he said, glancing up at his visitor. “I was out- 
side awhile and my ears almost froze off. I’m 
going to make the place a bit warmer. ’ ’ 

“Not too warm,” continued the doctor. “You 
should never make your plants too sensitive. 
Give them as much cold as they will stand. How 
warm is it now*?” 

Bernard consulted the thermometer before re- 
plying. “There’s a difference in plants,” he 
said, “and their native homes. Why, I’ve seen 
this specie grow where it was so hot that the 
sun fairly baked everything, yet it thrived 
there.” Neither his words nor manner showed 
mental weakness. He spoke as a man who 
knew what he was talking about. This side of 
his character Dr. Peirce had never seen before. 
It was in harmony with the story which Petri- 
ken had just related. 

“Where was that, Bernard?” he asked. 


LITTLE RHODY 


271 


“Where did you see plants growing under a 
hot sunT’ Dr. Peirce knew the few places in 
the world where these species of orchids and 
pitcher-plant grew. 

Bernard had turned his face aside. It was 
some moments before he replied, and then not 
until Dr. Peirce asked again, “Where did you 
see these plants growing T’ 

Bernard turned, and, with a piteous expres- 
sion, looked up into the face of his interlocutor 
as though beseeching him not to torture him 
by questionings. He passed his hand again and 
again over his head, as though the mere physi- 
cal action helped his mind to work. His lips 
trembled. An awful struggle was going on. 
The remembrance of times long since past was 
battling for recognition. Dr. Peirce watched 
him closely, asking no questions while the poor 
fellow was striving with a mind over which he 
had lost control. At last Bernard sighed. 

“I donT know,” he said wearily. “I can see 
a long row of low white houses, whose walls 
are plastered with mud. Beyond them are fields 


272 


LITTLE RHODY 


thick with plants and flowers. The perfume is 
so heavy that you can scarcely breathe. The 
streets are all rough cobble-stones. It hurts 
your feet when you walk-along. Why don’t you 
ride a mileT’ He looked up into the face of 
Dr. Peirce. His mouth flew open. His jaw fell. 
He was the simple-minded imbecile again. But 
Dr. Peirce had learned enough to know that this 
man had traveled and studied. Just such a 
little town as Bernard described Dr. Peirce 
had himself visited. This was a little place 
famous in history, and the Mecca of those to 
whom rare plants were a delight. 

The instant Dr. Peirce realized that this 
man’s mental condition was the result, perhaps, 
of an accident, and had existed only since he 
had been an adult, he felt a new interest in 
Bernard. The scientist, the surgeon, had again 
come to the front. He felt the old enthusiasm 
which had marked his early studies and his first 
operations. He forgot that he had declared 
himself too old for the work of a surgeon. Here 


LITTLE RHODY 


273 


was a case which excited his sympathies, and 
demanded his considerate attention. 

Bernard pnt his head sideways, while he 
chuckled to himself. don’t know anything. 
I did once, but when I try to think now some-, 
thing slips away. I used to try to remember, 
but I don’t try any more. Do you know why?” 
He shuffled up close to Dr. Peirce, and leered 
into his face. This was the repulsive, imbecile 
Bernard. Dr. Peirce watched him closely. He 
did not fear him. He had spent hours in the 
study of cases similar to this. 

^‘No; I do not know why you do not try to 
remember, Bernard,” he said gently. He did 
not wish to alarm him. He hoped he would 
continue talking. ‘‘Why do you not try to re- 
member?” 

Bernard rubbed his head again. He looked 
very knowing. He bent closer to Dr. Peirce, 
as though he were about to disclose a secret of 
great importance. “Because it makes me feel 
queer,” he said. “My head feels as though 
it were iron and some one was pounding it right 
18 


274 


LITTLE RHODY 


here.’’ He pressed his hand upon his head. 
“When I try to remember some one pounds 
right here.’^ 

“Then I would not try to remember, Ber- 
nard. I’d think of nothing but the flowers, and 
a good meal.” 

The doctor laughed heartily. He had no 
desire to force this man’s mind into channels 
which had so long been clogged up. The better 
plan was to let the matter pass off as a jest. 

“Sit down here, Bernard, on the steps, while 
I tell you what we used to do at school.” Ber- 
nard obeyed. He let his head droop sidewise. 
His expression was that of an imbecile. A less 
experienced surgeon than Dr. Peirce would have 
faltered at the sight of that face. There seemed 
no mind to be awakened. 

Dr. Peirce assumed his most charming man- 
ner. Then, as Bernard sat before him, he softly 
laid his hand upon the head, never pausing for 
an instant in his light chatter: “I used to get 
headaches when I went to school,” he said, “I 
had the notion that I was relieved by having 


LITTLE RHODY 


275 


some one gently rub his hands across my head, 
so.’’ 

He suited the action to the words, gently 
passing his skilled fingers over Bernard’s head. 
To and fro, skilfully, deftly they passed, while 
the doctor talked. 

remember one day I came in with a raging 
headache. In an hour’s time, I had a clinic 
which I could not atford to miss. So I resorted 
to my old theory about rubbing. I called in a 
student, rooming across the hall, and explained 
the situation, telling him if he would rub my 
head thoroughly, the pressure would be re- 
moved, my headache cured, and I could attend 
the clinic. He readily promised. His over- 
readiness should have made me suspicious. He 
was quite a wag. I lay down on the couch, 
while he rubbed my forehead and temples. He 
did it well, quite like a professional. I took up 
my hat, and started off. When I entered the 
hospital hall, every man there snickered. The 
man next door had covered his finger-tips with 
some vile coloring matter, and my face looked 


276 


LITTLE RHODY 


like the face of a Choctaw chief done up in his 
best war-paint. Ah^’ — 

The ‘^ah’’ was said in a tone denoting satis- 
faction and relief. Dr. Peirce had found, with 
his finger-tips, what he had hoped to find. The 
head over which his hands had been moving so 
carelessly, yet methodically, was well-developed 
and symmetrical. It was not the head of an 
idiot or of one of feeble mind. Strength was 
shown by the perfect contour, the breadth and 
heighth of the forehead, the width between the 
eyes. But where the frontal bone joined the 
occipital a depression, as large in circum- 
ference as though a man’s thumb had forced 
itself half an inch into the skull. At this dis- 
covery, Dr. Peirce ’s face lighted up. 

He stepped away from Bernard, who, uncon- 
scious that Dr. Peirce had been so closely exam- 
ining him, was chuckling to himself and wag- 
ging his head over the story he had just heard. 

‘‘Well, Bernard, have you arranged the 
steam? If the weather does not fail us, we’ll 
have a fine show of flowers. Have you been 


LITTLE RHODY 


277 


watching that Linar a Vulgaris? That begins to 
show what care and attention will do for a com- 
mon weed. We’ll have a plant soon that people 
will rave over, and we ’ll make our fortune with 
it. We’ll deck it out with a new name. Come 
into the library. I’ve a book there, with speci- 
mens I got in a little Aztec village in Mexico.” 

Bernard’s face lighted. “That’s where I saw 
the specimens,” he said. 

“So I thought. I saw them there once 
myself.” Without further speech Dr. Peirce 
quitted the hothouse to rejoin Petriken in the 
library. But this evening he was not compan- 
ionable. Taking down one volume after another 
from the. shelves, he pored over them, paying 
no attention to his guest perched on the end 
of the table. 

At bedtime, Petriken ventured to say “good- 
night.” The doctor read on, not hearing him. 
Petriken hobbled otf to his own room, and lay 
awake listening for the sound of the doctor’s 
footsteps. He listened until he grew tired. The 
hour was late and he fell asleep. It was almost 


278 


LITTLE RHODY 


morning when the doctor, with a sigh of satis- 
faction, closed the books and sought his own 
room. 

Affairs about the place for the next few days 
did not move in their accustomed orderly 
groove. Everything was at sixes and sevens. 
Dr. Peirce neglected his hothouses and turned 
them all over to Bernard and the gardener. It 
was not that he was ill, or disinclined to work. 
Never had he shown more activity. He spent 
the mornings in writing letters, and the after- 
noons in taking long drives. He asked no one 
to accompany him on these trips. This was 
enough in itself to cause comment, for generally 
he was free with his invitations and rarely went 
anywhere alone. One afternoon, as he stood 
in the hall, drawing on his overcoat preparatory 
to setting forth, Petriken volunteered his com- 
pany. 

^‘Why, my dear boy, almost any other time 
I would be glad to have you. But I’m over my 
ears in thinking, and I am not much company. 
I’ve been attending some sessions of the med- 


LITTLE RHODY 


279 


ical convention, and yon wonld be bored to 
death. I confess I care little for it myself. 
Most of the talks are cnt-and-dried theory, 
which has been served up so often that we older 
men are tired of it. I go because it is my only 
opportunity of having a little private talk with 
one or two men there, who really know what 
surgery means. If they finish up their work 
early enough, they’ll come over here for a few 
days. Then your ears will ache with talks of 
clinics and operations. There’s Mack with the 
horse. Good-bye, don’t get lonely. Better help 
Bernard in the hothouses. Next trip I’ll take 
you all along.” 

In another instant he had gone. In spite of 
the doctor’s injunction, Petriken did feel lonely. 
Books grew tiresome. The condition of the 
walks did not permit of his going out. Flowers 
and plants did not interest him as they did Ber- 
nard. The holiday season had passed. The 
men at The Hall had gone home and returned 
again. It was on them that his thoughts dwelt 
the greater part of the time. He would have 


280 


LITTLE RHODY 


given a great deal to have gone back. He had 
long coveted school-life, but none of his friends 
had believed him physically able to stand the 
routine. Somehow, he thought little of the dis- 
grace of his dismissal. His only regret seemed 
to be that he was missing the companionship of 
the men there. He did not know what Hr. Wel- 
don had written concerning him to his guardian. 
Whatever it was, Hr. Peirce had not allowed 
it to influence his attitude toward Petriken. He 
had welcomed him as cordially as though he 
were an honor man instead of a disgraced 
student. 

It was late at night before Hr. Peirce 
returned from the city, bringing with him sev- 
eral men of his own profession. Petriken was 
in bed when they arrived, but he heard the 
murmur of their voices from the library. He 
met them the next morning at the breakfast 
table. 

They were what Hr. Peirce called young men, 
although they had all passed middle age. But 
they were bubbling over with high spirits and 


LITTLE RHODY 


281 


stories. Each man had some pet theory of his 
own regarding his profession, and brought it 
forth at every opportunity. There were good- 
natured arguments, chaffing, and ridicule from 
all sides. Petriken sat at the table with them. 
He took no part in the conversation, but lis- 
tened with interest. The manner and buoyancy 
of spirit of these men surprised him. They 
were as full of life as the boys at The Hall. 
Yet Petriken knew they represented the finest 
flower of their profession. Not one of them but 
stood first in his special line of work. 

‘‘When is Miller coming P’ suddenly asked a 
little, white-haired man, whose quick answers 
had kept the table convulsed. “Why, I would 
give a dollar, if I had it, to see that man. We 
had a year together at Leipsic. We lived high 
there. ^ ’ 

“Fourth or fifth floor T’ queried the man at 
his right. 

“Fifth, I think. Bents were in adverse pro- 
portion. The higher the room, the lower the 


282 


LITTLE RHODY 


rent. I know Miller and I could count the 
chimney-pots for squares.’’ 

‘‘I’m disappointed about Miller,” said Dr. 
Peirce. “The moment this piece of work came 
to my hands, I thought of him as a matter of 
course. I haven’t done anything like this for 
years, and I’m afraid to trust myself. I had 
a talk with him on the wire. He was uncertain 
when he would be able to come ; but advised me 
to go on. He seems to think there is little or 
no danger. I agree with him in that, but when 
a man begins to touch the eighties, he had 
better let the knife alone. ’ ’ 

“That’s so, Peirce,” said a round-faced, 
spectacled man at the end of the table. He 
looked like Santa Claus instead of a surgeon 
at the head of the State Insane Asylum. 
“Confidence in one’s self is the main thing. If 
you feel that way about undertaking the work, 
it’s better to let it alone.” 

“What do you say about undertaking this 
yourself?” asked Dr. Peirce. 

The eyes of all the men at the table were 


LITTLE RHODV 


283 


directed towards the little man whom the host 
had addressed. That the suggestion met with 
their approval was evident. 

“Dr. Mead is the man to do it,” said one. 
“Excellent!” “The best plan possible,” cried 
the others. Dr. Mead hesitated a moment. 

“I^m quite willing to undertake the opera- 
tion,” he said, “but I must see the patient, and 
judge for myself whether such a course is 
advisable. Not that I discredit Dr. Peirce’s 
judgment. It is only that I must understand 
the conditions fully, before I touch the knife 
for the simplest operation. ’ ’ 

At this the others nodded in approval. “Per- 
fectly proper, Mead. I’d do the same if I were 
in your place. I’d suggest that you lead up to 
the subject gradually. There’s no use in caus- 
ing undue excitement. ’ ’ 

“I’ve spent thirty years of my life with such 
cases,” said Dr. Mead. “Thirty years spent in 
smoothing down ruffled feathers, and in pour- 
ing oil on troubled waters.” He arose at this. 
“I’ll spend the morning in investigation,” he 


284 


LITTLE REODY 


said. ‘‘I'll see you this evening, gentlemen, and 
give you my decision. Until then I must forego 
all social duties.’’ He bowed himself from the 
room. 

The other men arose and passed into the 
library. Petriken hobbled after them. In their 
conversation, they had forgotten his presence. 
The day was bitterly cold. Dr. Peirce and his 
guests drew around the grate fire. Petriken 
curled himself up in a great armchair. He was 
feeling very much alone. Even Dr. Peirce had 
forgotten him. The talk went on about opera- 
tions some one had performed or was going to 
perform some time in the future; about the 
rapid strides one man was making in the pro- 
fession ; and how another had lost caste among 
the medical fraternity. 

No doubt all this was interesting to those who 
had spent their life in the work, but to Petriken 
it was an exceeding great bore. He stood it for 
some time, then unnoticed quitted the room. 
Bernard, he knew, would be in the hothouses. 
He decided to go there for awhile. Perhaps 


LITTLE RHODY 


285 


he could induce Bernard to go for a drive or a 
walk. He hobbled along the narrow passage 
which led from the main division of the house. 
Bernard was at the most remote part. He 
heard him moving about and mumbling to him- 
self. Petriken hurried along as fast as his 
crutch would carry him. When he came to the 
end of the hothouse, he found that Bernard 
already had one visitor. Dr. Mead was moving 
among the flowers, commenting on their fine 
appearance, and by the interest he showed win- 
ning Bernard’s highest regard. 

At this Petriken turned about. He did not 
wish to hear more professional talk. He could 
not refrain from smiling as he thought of Dr. 
Mead’s declaring at the breakfast table that 
he would spend the morning in investigation. 
To Petriken ’s mind, a hothouse was not a suit- 
able place for the investigation of surgical 
operations. 

Disappointed in the hope of finding some one 
to talk to, Petriken went back to his room. He 
would spend his morning in letter writing. 


286 


LITTLE RHODY 


Shafter was the only one of The Hall men who 
had written to him. The others might sym- 
pathize and feel sorry for him, but Shafter 
believed in him in spite of his avowal that he 
was a thief. 

Petriken felt that much of the kindness and 
consideration shown him those last few days at 
school was because of his physical condition. 
Had he been as strong and straight as the 
others, the treatment accorded him might have 
been ditferent. Yet he had no fault to find with 
the men. He would have acted as they did, had 
he been in their places. The more he thought 
of Shafter, light-hearted, generous and true to 
the core, the more he loved him. There never 
could be a question where Shafter stood. There 
was no beating about the bush, no pretense with 
him. Yes, Petriken concluded, he would go 
back to his room and write to this one man at 
school who had stood by him. He wrote until 
he heard the men go in to dinner. No one 
hunted him up. Dr. Peirce was so absorbed in 
these talks on surgery that he wholly forgot his 


LITTLE RHODY 


287 


ward. Petriken decided not to go down until 
the guests had finished. 

An hour later, he heard them return to the 
library. Dr. Mead was talking at a great rate. 
Petriken could not catch what he said, for his 
talk was made up of technical terms. But it 
seemed to please the other doctors. At frequent 
intervals, a murmur of approval arose, and 
excited ejaculations of ‘ ^ excellent ! ” “ My idea 
exactly!’’ ‘‘I agree with Mead.” Then the 
voice of Dr. Peirce was heard. “All I regret 
is that Miller isn’t here. . He would be thor- 
oughly interested. The humanity side of the 
case appeals to one.” 

“He’ll come on later,” volunteered some one, 
whose voice Petriken did not recognize. “He’ll 
run over sometime next week, he said. It will 
please him just as well to find a convalescent 
as a subject-to-be.” 

“Well, that matter is settled,” said Dr. 
Peirce. “Now we’ll go for a drive. I wish to 
show you gentlemen what a pretty little piece 
of country lies among these mountains. ’ ’ 


288 


LITTLE RHODY 


There was the bustle and confusion of draw- 
ing on greatcoats, and rununaging in pockets 
for gloves. Then the hall door opened and shut, 
and quiet fell upon the house. 

Not until then did Petriken hobble down- 
stairs and into the dining-room. The place 
seemed quite deserted. He felt forlorn sitting 
by himself at the long stretch of table. Bernard 
took his meals in the kitchen. To-day, Petriken 
meant to change the order of the household and 
have Bernard eat with him. He requested the 
housekeeper to tell him to come in. She in- 
formed Petriken that Bernard had gone on a 
long walk with one of the doctors. The jovial- 
looking one, with the fat, round face and big 
glasses,” she explained. 

‘^That’s Dr. Mead,” said Petriken, ‘‘but I 
don’t see why he takes Bernard off like that. 
But” — as though an explanation had come sud- 
denly to him — “I suppose he’s so accustomed 
to being with crazy people that he don’t feel 
at home unless a person’s a little peculiar.” 

He finished his meal in silence. Going into 


LITTLE RHODY 


289 


the library, he curled up in a chair before the 
fire and read until Dr. Peirce and his friends 
returned. It was quite time for lights then. 
When the gas had been lighted, Dr. Peirce saw 
the little fellow curled up, half-asleep. 

“Well, well,’^ he said, “here we young fel- 
lows have been having a good time, and forget- 
ting all about the old men at home.’’ He laid 
his hand in a fatherly way upon the boy’s head. 
“Well, Eush, you will have your innings later. 
We haven’t been playing all day. We have had 
some hard questions to solve, and some delicate 
work to make ready for. It was no use bother- 
ing you about it until the matter was settled. 
But when these old gray-beards are smoking 
their evening cigars, you and I will have an 
old-time talk.” 

Petriken held fast to the hand which lay on 
his shoulders. He looked up into his guardian’s 
face and smiled. He was glad that he had not 
been wholly forgotten. 

After the evening meal, when the guests had 
again gone back to the library, and the room 


19 


290 


LITTLE RHODY 


was filled with clouds of smoke, Dr. Peirce took 
Petriken off to the hothouses, under pretext of 
showing him a new plant which had bloomed 
for the first time that day. When they were 
far away from the others. Dr. Peirce told the 
boy why he had invited these men to his home, 
and what course of action they had decided 
upon. 

“When you told me about Bernard being in 
a wreck,’’ he said, “I understood at once his 
peculiarities. He is not an idiot I knew from 
the first. Dr. Weldon declared that he had 
shown no signs of insanity. He is a rational 
being on all matters which do not require his 
mind to go back to a past. Such conditions as 
this have been brought to the notice of special- 
ists before. The supposition is that in case of 
accident, like this, a portion of the skull has 
been pressed down on the brain, robbing it of 
its special power. Sometimes there is merely 
a concussion, which is relieved by making an 
opening through the skull. There is one thing 
against us in this case. We do not know that 


LITTLE RHODY 


291 


Bernard was actually in the wreck. Even 
though we accept the supposition that he was, 
we have no proof that he was not always as he 
is now. The only certain thing is that his head, 
symmetrical in every other respect, shows a 
marked depression over that portion of the 
brain which physiologists deem to be the seat 
of memory.” 

Petriken listened eagerly. He had no sus- 
picions that Bernard had been the subject under 
discussion. Dr. Peirce paused a moment. 
Petriken urged him on with ‘‘ Well ! Well ! and 
the doctors, what do they say about it? Can 
they make him well ? ’ ^ 

“They think they can. Dr. Mead’s judgment 
in such cases is almost infallible. The only 
reason we hesitate is that Bernard has no one 
to act for him. There is one chance in a hun- 
dred that he will be none the better for it. We 
did hesitate to take the responsibilities upon 
ourselves. I would not act alone. These men 
here, my guests, the best in the profession, have 
given their approval, and have decided with us 


292 


LITTLE RHODY 


upon the method of operation. That is all. I 
thought, Eush, that since Bernard was your 
friend first, you should know. What do you 
think about itT’ 

The little fellow twitched nervously. His 
mouth drew sidewise. For a moment he could 
not speak. Then he said brokenly, ^‘If I was 
like Bernard, I’d — I’d take any risk. I’d suffer, 
I’d do anything — ariything to be like other men. 
When will” — he could not finish the question. 

‘‘To-morrow early. We will not tell him 
until we are ready. I thought once of having 
you spend the day in the city. But, perhaps, 
you will feel easier here. ’ ’ 

“Yes, yes, far better. I’ll know at once 
when it is all over. But, come, let us go back. 
I’ll stay with Bernard this evening. It may be 
a long time before I can talk with him again. ’ ’ 
He turned quickly about. Leaving the doc- 
tor, he swung himself along on his crutch to 
that part of the hothouse where he knew he 
would find Bernard. 


CHAPTER XI. 

The following morning a change had come to 
the atmosphere of the house. On coming down 
to breakfast at the usual hour, Petriken found 
the place without guests or host. He had no 
desire for food. He pushed his plate away 
without touching a mouthful. The quiet of the 
room was oppressive. After sitting for a few 
moments, in the hope that some one would come 
in, he quitted the dining-room and hobbled back 
to the library. The door was closed. He heard 
the doctors moving quietly about. He knocked 
timidly, then opened the door. 

He was permitted but a glance, but he saw 
the change which had taken place in the room. 
The long library table had been cleared of its 
litter of magazines and papers, and moved close 
to the window. Petriken knew what this meant. 

The surgeons were doing no laughing or talk- 
293 


294 


LITTLE RHODY 


ing now; but moved about gravely, wholly 
absorbed in the work before them. One was 
sterilizing a set of instruments; a second was 
arranging bottles of anesthetics; a third was 
placing on a small stand, which he had moved 
within reach of the library table, vessels of 
water with sponges, and rolls of medicated cot- 
ton and bandages. Dr. Mead and his assistant 
had decked themselves out in the housekeeper’s 
aprons. 

Petriken took it all in at a glance, while the 
door opened. Dr. Peirce turned around and 
shook his head in dismissal. “Keep away, 
Eush,” he said, coming to the door and speak- 
ing in low tones. “I know how anxious you 
are, but coming in here now will only make you 
nervous. You will be in our way. Go to your 
room, and I will send you word the moment we 
have any word to send.” He closed the door 
at this, shutting Petriken in the hall. 

On his way back to his room, Petriken met 
Bernard hurrying along. He was wearing his 
broadest grin, and stepped in a way that 


LITTLE RHODY 


295 


showed he was elated. He chuckled at the sight 
of his friend. 

‘H’m called into the library,’’ he said with 
an air of great importance and mystery. 

There is a consultation of the doctors, and 
they’ve invited me in. I saw them close the 
door on you. But don’t you mind. Everyone 
can’t be of importance. I guess they’ve begun 
to find out that I’m as much a doctor as they 
are. But don’t you feel bad. I’ll come back 
as soon as I talk with them, and tell you all 
about it.” He stooped to Petriken. ‘‘Well, 
well, well,” wagging his head, “you look sick, 
and I think you must have been crying. You 
look like it.” 

“I don’t feel as well as usual,” replied the 
boy. “I am going to my room to rest awhile. 
I’ll feel better then.” 

“I tell you what I’ll do,” with his knowing 
look. “I’ll speak about you to the doctors in 
there, and they’ll fix you up. I must hurry 
along, but I won’t forget to tell them, and you’ll 
soon be all right.” 


296 


LITTLE RHODY 


He moved toward the library. With his hand 
on the knob of the door he stood a moment with- 
out entering. He glanced back at Petriken, who 
was leaning heavily on his crutch, and watch- 
ing Bernard with a peculiar expression of inter- 
est and responsibility. He forced a smile when 
he saw Bernard looking at him. Bernard 
waved his hand, ‘‘So long!’’ he cried in silly 
good humor, opened the door, and was lost from 
Petriken ’s sight. 

Petriken did not dare trust himself to think 
what change might take place before they met 
again, or indeed if they would ever meet. He 
went alone to his room, to sit and wait until 

some message came. 

***** 


It was not until the following morning that 
Petriken was allowed to step quietly into Ber- 
nard’s room. There was yet uncertainty as to 
the outcome of the operation. The patient had 
come from under the influence of the ether, but 
again had passed into a state of semi-conscious- 


LITTLE RHODY 


297 


ness. The surgeons had expected such condi- 
tions, and were not alarmed. They hoped that 
the mind would awaken slowly to the new con- 
ditions, and so be spared a shock which might 
complicate matters. Perfect quiet was all that 
was required now. At any moment he might 
open his eyes to the new world about him. It 
was better to have with him some one whom he 
knew. For this reason Petriken was deputized 
to act the part of watcher at the bedside. He 
was eager for the place. Better anything else 
than sitting alone, idle and restless, because 
finding it impossible to busy himself with work. 
He needed no injunctions to be quiet, or to 
show neither surprise nor alarm at whatever 
the patient might do when he awakened. He 
was instructed to answer no questions. Some 
one of the surgeons sat in the adjoining room. 
He would not be wholly alone. 

He took up his place in the sick room im- 
mediately after breakfast on the second day 
after the operation. He crept softly in, seating 
himself by the window, where he could see the 


298 


LITTLE EHODY 


sleeper’s face. The curtains were so drawn 
that the room was but half-lighted. The patient 
lay quiet as though in deep sleep. His fore- 
head was swathed in linen bandages. 

The morning dragged itself away. At regular 
intervals, Dr. Peirce or Dr. Mead came softly 
into the room, and bending over the bed listened 
to the patient’s breathing and felt his pulse. 
There was nothing to cause alarm. The breath- 
ing was as regular as that of a sleeping child, 
and the pulse, while scarcely normal, was sur- 
prisingly strong. At noon, some one else took 
Petriken’s place and he was dismissed to rest 
for an hour or more. The surgeons, except Dr. 
Mead and his assistant, had gone back to their 
work. Word had come that Dr. Miller would 
arrive sometime the following day. 

Dr. Mead was pleased with the piece of news, 
never knew a subject to remain so long in 
a comatose state,” he said. ‘‘As long as the 
heart-action is so strong as it is now, I believe 
it will be better for the patient. A nervous re- 
action always follows an operation. This long 


LITTLE RHODY 


299 


sleep may prevent that. But Dr. Miller will 
be interested. I wish he might be here at the 
critical time.’’ 

Late in the afternoon, Petriken slipped back 
to his old post near the window. Huddled up 
in the window-seat, his crippled form was 
plainly outlined against the gray-and-white of 
the world outside. Scarcely had he taken his 
place when the patient moved. One arm was 
thrown out across the coverlet. The head 
turned on the pillow. Then came a long deep- 
drawn breath as though the sleeper was slowly 
awakening. Then the eyes opened and fell 
directly upon Petriken, although in the fast 
deepening twilight his features were undis- 
tinguishable. Only the figure of one sitting 
hunched up in the window nook was clearly dis- 
cernible. 

‘‘Are you trying to study there?” asked Ber- 
nard. “Don’t you know you’ll ruin your eyes?” 

His tones were rational. Petriken was 
trembling in every limb. He saw, in the room 
adjoining, Dr. Mead listening intently. He con- 


300 


LITTLE RHODY 


trolled himself enough to answer quite calmly, 
‘ ‘ I am not trying to read. I Ve been sitting here 
thinking. ’ ’ 

“I must have slept a long time. Why didn^t 
you hustle me out? You know what work I 
have on hand.’’ 

Petriken thought he referred to his work in 
the hothouses. 

‘‘Your work’s all right. I thought you might 
as well have your sleep out. ’ ’ 

“About what time is it?” 

“Nearly six.” 

“Six? I must have slept three solid hours, 
and such dreams. I wish you had awakened me. 
They were so horrible that I can’t bear to think 
of them.” 

“Then don’t.” 

“That’s all well enough to say. But you can- 
not stop thinking when you wish. I thought I 
was home. Mother and I were going some- 
where on a train. Then came a jar. Did I 
jump in my sleep? I must have.” 


LITTLE RHODY 


301 


guess so,’^ faltered Petriken, ‘‘I really 
didn’t notice.” 

‘‘It would have been a wonder if I didn’t. 
Something struck the car and I saw every one 
mangled and dying before me. Before I could 
reach them, they had disappeared, and I was 
roaming somewhere, trying to remember where 
I left them, and always trying to get back to 
them. It was horrible. ’ ’ 

“Well, be glad it was only a dream.” 

“I only hope that I’ll never have another 
like it. Why, I actually feel pain now in the 
place where I thought something struck me — 
right here.” His hand went up to his head, and 
came in contact with the bandages. He was 
calmer than even the doctors had expected him 
to be. 

“Ah, there was something. What was it? 
One of those miserable ‘rushes’ again?” 

“Yes,” said Petriken, although he had no 
idea what a “miserable rush” or any other kind 
was. “You were hurt a little, but not at all 
seriously.” 


302 


LITTLE RHODY 


begin to see. Where have they taken me? 
This looks more comfortable than Fran Wenk’s. 
I never knew that place to be quiet. ’ ’ 

^‘You’re at the doctor’s. It was quieter here. 
He brought you here from among the crowds 
of men. ’ ’ 

Petriken was telling the truth or what was 
truth to him, for he had in mind Bernard’s 
departure from The Hall, and the men there, 
and his coming into Dr. Peirce’s house. 

‘‘Good-hearted old duffer,” said the invalid 
heartily, “even if he does get all ‘balled’ up on 
his English. He does this for the sake of my 
honored daddy; for he considers me one of the 
incorrigibles. He has no hope for the man who 
introduced football into school. ’ ’ 

Petriken climbed down from his window, and 
hobbled over to the bed. “You are to take 
some medicine the moment you awake, ’ ’ he said. 
‘ ‘ Then you are to go to sleep again. ’ ’ 

The patient lifted himself in bed, and braced 
himself up on his elbow, while he gazed at Petri- 


LITTLE RHODY 


303 


ken in surprise. ‘‘I thouglit you were Kant/’ 
he said, ‘‘where did you drop from?” 

“I’m not Kant. My name’s Petriken, and 
I was sent here to sit until you awakened, and 
to give you this medicine. You’d better take it 
now. ’ ’ 

“Oh, I’ll take it, all right. But where’s Kant 
and the rest of the men?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“How long have you been sitting here?” 

“All day, except when the doctor came in. 
Then he sent me out to rest while he stayed 
here.” 

“Well, I call that shabby treatment from a 
friend. What are you hunching up your shoul- 
ders for? You’re not hunchbacked, are you?” 

“Yes; I am,” replied Petriken. “But you 
are to go to sleep if you can. The doctor said 
it would be better for you. ’ ’ 

He was already drowsy. He lay back on his 
pillow and closed his eyes. “All right, my little 
hunchback of Notre Dame,” he murmured, “I’ll 
obey orders. I suppose he put enough in those 


304 


LITTLE RHODY 


sugar-coated pills to see that I go — / ’ He was 
breathing heavily before he finished. In 
another moment he was fast asleep. 

Dr. Mead and his assistant had listened to 
this talk. Later, in the library, they discussed 
the matter in Petriken’s presence. They were 
uncertain yet as to the condition of his mind. 
His talk had appeared rational enough, but 
knowing nothing of the time preceding his 
injury, they could not yet tell whether he had 
gone back to the point where he had left otf 
that day of the wreck, or whether these were 
hallucinations of a disordered mind. The only 
course to follow was to wait and see. Of one 
thing they were certain, Bernard had not 
grasped the situation. The period of his stay 
at The Hall and at Dr. Peirce’s home was not 
remembered. 

A message from Dr. Miller came during the 
evening. He would be with them some time 
that night. The hour was late when the train 
arrived, nevertheless he would come out at once, 
in order to watch this case closely. 


LITTLE RHODY 


305 


Bernard slept as soundly and peacefully as a 
child. This was due in a great measure to the 
medicine. There had not been so much as a 
movement of his hand or head. The expres- 
sion of his face showed perfect relaxation. 
There was something fine about the man’s face 
now. The vacant, silly look had gone. 

The doctors came in at intervals to listen to 
his breathing and to count the heart beats. 
With each visit, they were better satisfied. 
There could be no loss of physical strength. 
Should the operation not benefit him mentally, 
they were confident he would be at least none 
the worse for it. He would merely go back to 
what he had been, a silly-minded fellow who 
needed some one to protect him. 

It was almost daylight when a cab drove up 
with Dr. Miller. Dr. Mead and his assistant 
had gone to rest. Dr. Peirce with Petriken, 
wide awake and nervous, received him in the 
library. Petriken was surprised at the appear- 
ance of the new guest. He was not nearly the 
age of his host. Yet his hair, too, was snowy. 


20 


306 


LITTLE RHODY 


Where Dr. Peirce’s expression was humorous 
and jovial, this man’s was sad. He looked like 
one who, having missed the best part of life, 
had made the best of what remained, and had 
almost persuaded himself that he was content. 
Since the death of his wife and son, all his inter- 
est had centered in his profession. How great 
the loss of his son had been to him not even 
his closest friends knew. This son had been a 
born student, loving all that his father held 
dear, a leader in his classes, an athlete, of 
happy temperament and generous impulses. He 
had taken his degree at an early age, and had 
continued his studies at the oldest German Uni- 
versities. Then, at the moment when he was 
ripe for his work in life, the blow fell. 

At the sound of the wheels. Dr. Peirce hurried 
to the door. The old friends grasped hands. 
‘‘Wliy, Miller, this does me a world of good,” 
cried the host. ‘‘It’s been almost a dozen years 
since we’ve met.” 

‘ ‘ Ten, last summer, ’ ’ was the laconic reply. 

That summer was so fixed in Dr. Miller’s 


LITTLE RHODY 


307 


mind that he had no hope of forgetting it. Still 
retaining Dr. Peirce’s hand within his grasp, 
he led him into the light for closer inspection. 

“You haven’t changed a bit, Peirce. It is 
really niggardly, the way you cling to the good 
things of life. You put us younger men to 
shame with your light step and boyish manner.” 

Dr. Peirce laughed aloud in his joyous, hearty 
manner. “I see, I see, you think I have grown 
childish, and you can flatter me as you will. 
But not another word now until you have a bite 
to eat.” He led the way to the dining-room. 
“How are you on the forage? You used to be 
rather good at it, years ago. I remember, 
many’s the time some of you young bloods 
helped yourselves to the few delicacies we had 
laid away.” 

“I’m fairly good at it yet. Just try me,” re- 
sponded his guest, following his host across the 
hall. 

Petriken hobbled along after them. He 
looked with admiration upon the broad shoul- 
ders and fine carriage of this Dr. Miller. His 


308 


LITTLE RHODY 


presence filled the room. The house seemed 
to dwindle and look shabby before him. His 
voice was as big as his body. It was full, rich 
and perfect in intonation. 

He turned at the sound of the crutches behind 
him. ‘ ‘ Ah, this is the boy you mentioned. ’ ’ He 
paused to extend his hand to the little hunch- 
back. ‘‘I met your father, once, years ago, and 
I knew your mother well. You had parents to 
be proud of, my boy. I^m glad now to meet 
their son, both for his own sake and theirs. ’ ’ 

That speech won Petriken’s heart. He could 
love any one who knew and remembered his 
sweet, gentle' mother. ^‘Coming in with us?^’ 
continued Dr, Miller. ‘‘That’s right. We’ll be 
glad of the company, although you look as 
though you ought to be in bed.” 

“This is unusual,” explained his host. 
“Petriken is an early bird generally. But he’s 
been considerably excited over his friend. I 
knew he would not sleep if he were in bed. So 
we passed the evening away talking of old 
times.” 


LITTLE RHODY 


309 


With a smile Dr. Miller turned to the boy. 
‘‘Dr. Peirce always would have his joke/’ he 
said. “I don’t know whether I approve of late 
meals or not; but since you are here, we’ll run 
the risk of it for the sake of your company. 
This cold meat, and the smell of that coffee, 
would tempt a stronger man than I.” 

“We might call it an early lunch,” suggested 
Petriken quite seriously, as though the differ- 
ence of one word might aid in digestion, “for 
it is long past midnight, and early in the morn- 
ing.” 

The doctor laughed, and declared Petriken to 
be a philosopher of the Epicurean school, which 
Petriken did not understand in the least; but 
he felt that it must be humorous, else the doctor 
would not have laughed. So he laughed too as 
in duty bound, for all the doctor did was good 
in Petriken ’s eyes. He drew out a chair for 
Petriken close beside his own. He evidently 
was hungry, for he did full justice to the cold 
lunch spread before him. 

His conversation was bright and cheerful. 


310 


LITTLE RHODY 


He was interested in the work his friend had 
been doing during these years in which they 
had not met. He asked questions about the men 
at The Hall. His interest was not assumed. 
He had so given up his life to others that inter- 
est in what interested them had become part of 
him. Had Petriken not known better, and had 
Dr. Miller’s face not shown that he knew what 
sorrow was, he would have believed this man to 
have known little care and no real trouble. 

The conversation revolved about the last time 
they had met. Then, though each man wished 
to evade it, it settled at last on the wreck which 
had robbed Dr. Miller of his wife and son. 

It was then Dr. Peirce introduced the subject 
of Bernard, and the supposed blow which had 
robbed him of his faculties. 

Dr. Miller asked many questions concerning 
the ‘‘subject.” He was not satisfied until he 
knew each peculiarity in which Bernard’s weak- 
ness had been shown. He had Dr. Peirce locate 
upon Petriken ’s head the exact position of the 
depression upon the head of the patient. He 


LITTLE RHODY 


311 


listened to Petriken’s detailed account of what 
he knew concerning Bernardos stay at The Hall. 
How he had become excited at the mere mention 
of a railroad ; his knowledge of plants, and his 
sudden fancy to be called Dr. Bernard Clark. 

‘‘I was about to inquire his name,’’ said Dr. 
Miller. ‘‘You told me a great deal, but wholly 
neglected that important item. I shall feel a 
double interest in him because of the name. 
Clark is my middle name, you know,” turning to 
his host, “or perhaps, you didn’t know. My 
mother was a Clark, same family as those Clarks 
at Hughesville. ” 

“I don’t recall that I knew,” was the reply. 
“I knew your initials, of course; but in my 
mind, I’ve always called you Miller. It is a 
strange coincidence about the name — ^your first 
name being Bernard, too. Am I right about 
that? As I remember, that is what that little 
sister used to call you. Do you suppose he 
might be in any way related to your mother’s 
family? It seems strange that the names 
should be the same.” 


312 


LITTLE RHODY 


‘‘I fancy not. There was not a large connec- 
tion there. I don’t know any one of them by 
that name that would be near this man’s age. 
Besides there has been nothing of this kind 
happen in the family. Had one of that family 
been missing, I am quite sure I should have 
been informed.” 

‘‘Undoubtedly. That is much the way I 
reasoned with myself. He must have been a 
stranger to this part of the country, or else 
there would have been some search for him, or 
some one would have recognized him. But 
there were no inquiries. As far as I know, no 
young man mysteriously disappeared at that 
time. He must have come from a distance. He 
uses excellent English, but that might be 
accounted for by his being so long at The Hall. 
He has a surprisingly fine knowledge of tech- 
nical botany, but that may be the sum and sub- 
stance of his learning. He might have been 
one of those tramping geniuses, who have a 
natural aptitude for absorbing information, 
who go everywhere and belong nowhere.” 


LITTLE RHODY 


313 


‘‘Yet yon took the trouble to call Mead, and 
all that set here, for a traveling genius T’ 
asked Dr. Miller, with a twinkle in his eye, “or 
was it done in the interest of science T’ 

His friend ^s face flushed. For a moment Dr. 
Peirce seemed really embarrassed. Dr. Miller 
turned to Petriken, “I presume youVe already 
learned Dr. Peirce’s great failing. You have 
been with him some time, and this fault of his 
is always in evidence, always working over 
time. ’ ’ 

“No,” was the reply made in all seriousness, 
“I never knew he had any faults.” 

“Then you are dull, or has age wrought a re- 
formation in him^ — but I doubt the latter. 
^Tien I knew him, he was hunting up all man- 
ner of excuses for helping some poor wretch. 
He would never confess, even to those who 
stood nearest in his friendship, but that he did 
it with the most selfish motives. It used to keep 
him busy sometimes hunting up legitimate 
excuses for his philanthropy. We caught him 
once in the act of sharing his last pfennig with 


314 


LITTLE RHODY 


a miserable wretch. We cornered him red- 
handed and accused him of generosity, phil- 
anthropy. But he declared it to be an act of 
mere selfishness. He felt so fine after such an 
act, that he could not help performing it, from 
the mere selfish pleasure that came to him.’’ 

‘^Now, now, you are putting the story a little 
strong,” said Dr. Peirce. ‘‘But really, had you 
seen the poor fellow, you would have done the 
same as I did. There was something most piti- 
able in his expression. After I witnessed one 
hopeless struggle he made to call back his 
truant mind I could not rest easy. I was really 
distressed. I could not rid my mind of thoughts 
of him. It was a more piteous sight than seeing 
a man struggle with death.” 

Then again the conversation shifted to that 
which lay nearest to Dr. Miller’s life. He told 
them much concerning his loss that they did 
not know. His wife had lived a few hours after 
the accident. After seeing her taken care of in 
the hospital, he had hurried back to the scene 
of the wreck in search of his son. Hours passed 


LITTLE RHODY 


315 


before all the bodies were recovered. Many 
were unrecognizable. The body of his son was 
among these. He searched closely for some 
means to positively identify it. Others were 
there for a similar purpose; a wife in search 
of her husband, an aged mother looking for her 
son. There were three bodies impossible to 
identify. They did what seemed the only thing 
open to them. They buried the three dead men 
with Christian rites, marked and put the graves 
in decent order. Yet he did not know which 
grave held the body of his son. When he had 
finished his story, he forced himself to meet his 
friend’s glances. 

‘‘It was hard,” he said, “yet it is nothing to 
what I would have suffered had I believed my 
son was as this poor silly fellow, a wanderer, 
homeless, and at the mercy of any trickster or 
villain into whose hands he might have fallen. 
A thought of that would have been unbearable. 
I believe I am more reconciled this evening to 
his death than I have ever been before. ’ ’ 

“Yet Bernard was, in a measure, most 


316 


LITTLE RHODY 


fortunate. He fell at once into Dr. Weldon’s 
hands. Only kindness and consideration comes 
from him. Bernard had a good home and was 
well provided for in every way. He was kept 
employed, but never overworked. He was very 
happy there, I believe.” 

‘‘Fortunate, very fortunate,” said Dr. Miller. 
“A little unkindness might have driven him in- 
sane. How has he been so far to-night 

“Sleeping peacefully as a child. We gave 
him a mild opiate. We were uncertain whether 
he was delirious, or whether his mind had gone 
back to the place where memory stopped years 
ago.” 

“Oh, he has been awake, then, since the oper- 
ation^ You didn’t mention that. I was imder 
the impression he was drowsing yet from the 
effects of the ether. Did he speak at all — did 
he recognize any one?” 

Petriken gave a detailed account of the day’s 
doings, and what Bernard had said during the 
few minutes he seemed to be conscious. “He 
did not recognize me at all,” he concluded. “He 


LITTLE RHODY 


317 


asked my name and who sent me, but when I 
told him, he did not seem to understand or 
recognize me. He asked where he was, and I 
told him. He seemed to understand, for he 
said ‘The doctor ^s a good old duffer and is al- 
ways kind to me. ’ ’ ’ 

Dr. Miller glanced at his host and smiled. 
These two professionals recognized these symp- 
toms as those of a mind wavering between de- 
lirium and perfect consciousness; one instant 
able to control itself and the next floating off 
into the unreal. It was a condition not unusual 
with a subject who had been put under the 
influence of ether. Neither physician was 
alarmed. So far there was no indication of 
serious trouble. 

They arose from the table, “I’ll get into bed 
as soon as I can,” said Dr. Miller, “I’ve had a 
hard day, rather a serious affair at the hospital, 
and a trip on these accommodation trains is not 
calculated to rest a man. Let me have my sleep 
out in the morning, and then I’ll visit the pa- 
tient.” 


318 


LITTLE RHODY 


Dr. Peirce preceded him into the hall and up 
the stairs. ‘‘I’ll pnt yon np for the night, some- 
where,” he said. “I can promise yon an easy 
bed, bnt I’m not snre abont the place being 
swept np. Onr honsekeeper is a little slow 
sometimes abont snch matters. I let her take 
her own time. I think she mnst be what yon 
call a spiritnalist, she works only when the 
spirit moves her. ’ ’ 

“Well, if it moves her often enongh, yon need 
not complain.” 

“That’s the tronble,” Dr. Peirce lowered his 
voice, nodding his head toward an open door to 
indicate that they were passing Bernard’s 
room. 

“I’ll jnst slip in, and see how he’s resting,” 
said Dr. Miller. “Jnst a moment. I’ll not dis- 
tnrb him. ’ ’ 

As he spoke he stood for a moment at the 
doorway. The light from the lamp which Dr. 
Peirce held in his hand fell fnll npon his 
gnest’s face. The bed was facing the door. 
For a moment they stood thns. 



The light fell full upon his guest’s face 





LITTLE RHODY 


319 


‘‘Are you awaked’ asked Dr. Miller gently. 

To his surprise, an answer, in clear tones, 
indicative of both physical and mental strength 
replied, “Yes; just at this moment. Are you 
coming in now?^’ 

“Yes; surely,’’ said Dr. Miller, “for a min- 
ute only. We both need rest.” 

He crossed the room. The place was dimly 
lighted from the hallway and the adjoining 
room. The patient raised himself in bed, and 
reaching out grasped Dr. Miller’s hands. 

“Why, this is good of you,” he cried. “Did 
you come because you heard I was hurt? It is 
nothing serious, I fancy; I can’t account for 
how it happened. That little hunchback who 
was acting nurse said it was at football. Who 
sent you word?” 

“No one. I didn’t hear you were ill till the 
doctor told me downstairs.” 

“Nice old dutfer, isn’t he? But he walks all 
over himself when he tries to talk English. Sit 
down. It won’t hurt me to talk a little. I’m 


320 


LITTLE RHODY 


not as bad as they seem to think. I was sleepy, 
or I^d been about this evening.’’ 

Dr. Miller, realizing that it was best to gratify 
the request of the patient, seated himself on 
the edge of the bed. Bernard yet clung tightly 
to his hand. 

‘‘Bring in the light, Peirce,” he called out to 
his host, “our patient is wide awake and de- 
clares he’s well. I want to see if he looks 
strong enough to get about in the morning. ’ ’ 

Dr. Peirce obeyed. Bernard spoke. “I’m 
all right. I’ll coach the next team all right, 
cracked head or not. But you didn’t come 
alone, father ? Where ’s mother ? Did you leave 
her at homeT’ 

At that instant, Dr. Peirce brought the light 
to the bedside, where it fell upon the patient’s 
face. 

Dr. Miller gave a cry. Then he checked him- 
self. For an instant it took all his self-control 
to keep calm. 

“Yes,” he said quietly, “your mother is at 
home and well, Eick. Take the light away. 


LITTLE RHODY 


321 


Peirce. I’ll sit here with Eick until he falls 
asleep.” 

In the shadows, he sat quiet with his head 
bowed upon his son’s hands, which were clasped 
in his own. 


21 




CHAPTEE Xn. 

The coming of these surgeons into Dr. 
Peirce’s home produced a transformation scene 
which in result exceeded the wildest extrava- 
ganza. Bernard, the poor simple-minded man- 
of-all-work one day! 

Behold, another day passes, and takes with it 
Bernard, as the men at The Hall knew him. In 
his stead is the scholarly, high-bred Eichard 
Miller. 

It was some days after the meeting between 
father and son that the knowledge came to the 
latter that almost a dozen years had passed 
since their last meeting, and that he had been 
as dead to his family, his responsibilities and 
privileges, as though he had been placed in the 
grave marked with his name. 

The peculiar part of his regaining conscious- 
ness was that his memory connected itself with 
323 


324 


LITTLE RHODY 


his old life at that point in time, when some 
piece of the wreck had struck him. His experi- 
ences at The Hall, his coming into Dr. Peirce’s 
home were unknown to him. The days between 
the wreck and his recovering from the operation 
were misty, shadowy. 

When Petriken recalled the names of the men 
at school. Dr. Weldon, and interesting events 
which had transpired at The Hall, Bernard, or 
Richard Miller, remembered them only as one 
remembers a dream. 

The critical moment, much feared by his 
father and Dr. Peirce, was that in which the 
patient realized what had been the condition of 
his mind during the long interval. 

Richard, or Rick, as his friends called him, 
was not satisfied to take life as it began anew 
for him. He must know all that lay in the time 
between; who had befriended him, or whether 
he, when in this uncertain, peculiar condition of 
mind, had harmed any one. He must meet and 
thank these people who were his friends; and 
he must make right, as far as he was able, any 


LITTLE RHODY 


325 


wrong he had done. He questioned and ques- 
tioned Petriken for hours at a time. 

‘‘I remember one thing I did, Petriken,” he 
said suddenly, as they sat together in the li- 
brary. The older men had gone off for the 
afternoon, a course they had been pursuing 
since Pick’s convalescence, leaving him with 
Petriken, as the one best adapted to enlighten 
his mind upon matters in which Pick was now 
in the dark. 

These two. Pick and Petriken,. had been be- 
fore the fireplace since dinner-time, and twi- 
light was falling now. Pick had been an ani- 
mated question mark, asking more questions 
than Petriken could fully answer in an entire 
day. Pick had stretched himself full length in 
the Morris-chair. He looked the invalid. 
remember one thing I said,” he repeated. ‘Ht 
was the first time I awakened after the opera- 
tion. You were sitting curled up in the window- 
seat like a chipmunk. Do you remember what 
I called youT’ 

‘^Yes; I do,” said Petriken. His lips trem- 


326 


LITTLE RHODY 


bled. He was sensitive about his weak body. 
Every reference to it touched him to the quick. 
‘‘You said I was a little hunchback. It was the 
truth, I am.” 

“Petriken,” he laid his hand on the boy’s 
shoulder, “I apologize humbly for that remark. 
I know I hurt you. I am the one who should 
be ashamed. A straight body is a beautiful 
possession, no doubt, but there are more beau- 
tiful things in the world than that. ‘Not all 
good comes to one man,’ is an old Persian 
proverb. You may not believe it true, but you 
will when you see more of life. You grieve 
now about your crooked body; but after a while 
you’ll not think much about it. You’ll see so 
many crooked souls and crippled hearts in the 
world about you, that you’ll be thankful that it 
is only your body that is imperfect. You may 
be glad that your weakness came from external 
hurt, and was not thrust upon you by the evil 
living of a long line of ancestors. You may 
never be a man in stature, Petriken, but you 
will be a man in all that is honest, and unselfish, 


LITTLE RHODY 


327 


and good. I know no other boy your age who 
has won my respect as yon have done. And I 
wish you to forget what I said that day.” 

Petriken turned aside his head. For a mo- 
ment he kept his eyes fixed on the flickering fire 
in the grate. His eyes slowly filled with tears. 
His lips trembled. He turned and looked up at 
his companion. 

guess — I guess — you didn’t know why I 
left The Hall. You wouldn’t speak — that — that 
— way if you did ! ” 

He gulped back a sob, and rubbed the tears 
from his eyes. He felt relieved the moment he 
had spoken. Since Pick’s transformation, and 
Dr. Miller’s presence in the house, he had felt 
doubly the culprit. These two men treated him 
with great consideration and friendliness. They 
did not know, of course, that he had left The 
Hall branded as a thief. He dreaded their 
knowing. Yet his not telling them seemed like 
deception. He was winning their friendship, 
and enjoying their companionship under false 


328 


LITTLE RHODY 


pretense. The matter was out now, and he was 
glad that it was. 

‘‘Yes; I heard the story,” responded his com- 
panion. “I’ve known of it for some time. I 
know also that yon took with you when yon left 
a poor, simple-minded fellow, whose irritability 
would have soon shut him up with lunatics. 
That last was enough for me to know, Petriken. 
I haven’t given the other matter a thought.” 

“But you must know what they say, and — ” 

“I don’t give that,” he snapped his finger, 
“for what they say. ‘They say’ causes a great 
deal of trouble. Surely, Petriken,” here the 
man’s eyes twinkled brightly. His flow of 
humor had been dammed up for a dozen years. 
“You must pay me the compliment of believing 
that I have judgment enough to form my own 
opinion. But about this matter. You will not 
think I am merely curious, if I ask what oc- 
curred that day? I but partly remember.” 

Petriken nodded his head. He could not trust 
himself to speak. 

“Tell me what part I had in the matter — who 


LITTLE RHODY 


329 


called me into the office, and what I said there. 
Why was it necessary to call me in at allT’ 

‘‘I can tell you what took place in the office 
that afternoon. That’s really all I know about 
your part in it. It was badly mixed. Each 
person accused a different one.” 

“Who accused youf” 

“No one, ’ ’ slowly, ^ ‘ I confessed. They would 
have blamed Barnes with it, if I hadn’t.” 

“Yes, and Barnes was innocent?” 

It was difficult to tell whether Eick merely 
made a statement, or asked a question. Pet- 
riken took it as a question. He glanced up 
quickly into his companion’s face. He learned 
nothing from the man’s expression. Petriken 
did not reply. He made no assertion of Barnes ’ 
innocence. 

“This Barnes was your friend?” continued 
Eick. 

The boy’s face lighted up. Immediately he 
began an eulogy on Barnes and his attainments. 
How he stood first in class ; how he led in ath- 


330 


LITTLE RHODY 


letics; how straight his shoulders! When he 
had finished, there was nothing left to he said. 

‘‘Now tell me about myself. Wliy was I 
mixed up in that affair?’’ 

Petriken began the recital, telling in detail 
all that had passed on that particular day. How 
Shatter, at the last extremity, had reported that 
Bernard Clark had the money in the workshop. 
“But Shatter only told when he was forced to,” 
he explained. “He knew, and had known for 
weeks that you had the money. He had no in- 
tentions of telling, until he saw that matters 
were looking black for Barnes. Then he was 
in honor bound to tell. He couldn’t do any- 
thing else.” 

“I understand. Pretty fair sort of man, this 
Shatter, I judge. It’s strange I can’t remem- 
ber all. Barnes is coming back to my memory. 
I had the money then?” 

“Yes; Shatter went after you, and you came 
back with him. You had the money tied up in 
one of Watson’s handkerchiefs. The money 
was all there. There wasn’t a cent missing.” 


LITTLE RHODY 


331 


‘‘Where did I get the money? When I was — 
was — not myself — was I given to helping my- 
self to other people’s property?” 

“No ; that was what surprised everyone. Dr. 
Weldon trusted you implicitly. You said some 
one had given you the money, but you could not 
remember who. You were to give it to some- 
one else. But you forgot at the point which was 
so important.” 

“Well, anyway, my telling so much proved 
that Barnes was innocent.” 

Petriken shook his head. “That is what 
Shatter hoped would happen, but it made mat- 
ters worse. You whispered to Barnes as you 
were about to leave the room that you wouldn’t 
tell. Barnes wouldn’t tell what you meant. He 
was on his dignity and refused to do anything 
on compulsion.” 

Eick laughed. “I remember now. It had no 
connection with the money at all. I’ll remem- 
ber some day, and there can be no mistake.” 

“But there is no use bothering about it now. 
I’ve confessed.” 


332 


LITTLE RHODY 


I understand/^ 

The talk ended there. Eick fell into one of 
his brown studies. At such times he became 
depressed. It was no trifling matter to a young, 
ambitious man to have had a dozen years cut 
from the middle of his life. He had never ex- 
pressed his sorrow in words. He had kept up 
a smiling front before Dr. Peirce and his father. 
Petriken had not clearly understood this man’s 
disposition. 

‘‘Do you know, Dr. Eick,” he said suddenly, 
startling the man from his reverie, “that you 
bear this a great deal better than I could, or 
most men could? You seem to see something 
humorous in being a servant, and all that. I 
should think you would be all broken up about 
it. I would, I’m sure. But you don’t seem to 
care in the least.” 

“You don ’t understand, Eush. I do care, care 
a great deal. But here is my father who would 
give his life to see me happy, and good old Dr. 
Peirce, and you. You have all done so much 
for me, and so greatly hope for my contentment. 


LITTLE RHODY 


333 


Now, would I not have been a most ungrateful 
wretch if I was miserable over something which 
is gone, and which no one can bring back! I 
have a right to try to be happy for the sake of 
these friends. I may not accomplish it at first, 
but happiness and contentment are conditions 
of the mind which may be cultivated. I’m only 
trying to be as brave as my father was that 
night he recognized his son in the poor simple 
fellow, whose livelihood was dependent upon the 
generosity of others.” 

He smiled brightly, trying to treat the subject 
lightly. He had, during these weeks, kept up a 
brave front. His smile had been bright and his 
laugh cheery, if weak. He knew what his father 
had gone through, and Eick was man enough to 
seek to lighten, rather than deepen the sorrow. 

As soon as Rick felt himself strong enough 
to drive, he spent much time in going about with 
Dr. Peirce. Where they went, no one but them- 
selves knew. Dr. Miller and Petriken were 
never taken into their confidence. 

^‘Do you know, Eick,” Petriken said one day, 


334 


LITTLE RHODY 


with his serious air, “that this house is getting 
to be a house of mysteries? Strange things 
happen every day, and now since you and Dr. 
Peirce go hobnobbing about with your heads to- 
gether, something new will happen. ’ ’ 

“I wouldn’t be surprised at all,” said Eick, 
lounging down on the davenport beside Pet- 
riken, “something always does happen. There 
are some happenings at The Hall I hear. Some 
more money has turned up missing, and Mrs. 
Ehen is bewailing the loss of a watch.” 

Petriken gasped. Before he realized how 
much his words might convey to the hearer, he 
cried, “Then my going didn’t help matters any I 
I might as well have stayed! I thought sure 
Barnes would — ” 

Eealizing then that he might have expressed 
too much, he stopped suddenly. Eick, however, 
seemed not to have grasped all the boy’s words 
implied. His attention was, in part, distracted 
by a riding-glove, which he held in his hand, a 
ripped seam of which he was examining intent- 


LITTLE RHODY 


335 


ly. That he was indifferent to Barnes and The 
Hall, both, was shown by his manner. 

^‘Didn’t do a bit of good,” he replied slowly, 
without so much as a glance toward his com- 
panion. ‘‘Whatever possessed you to do such a 
ridiculous thing as that ? All good things meant 
as much to you as to him. ’ ’ 

“Not altogether. No one ever has expected 
much of me, and every one did of Barnes. I 
had no mother. Barnes had, and if she had 
known this, her heart would have been broken. 
They needed money, too. They lost everything 
they had. Barnes had a place offered him the 
moment school closed in the spring. But this 
would have spoiled it all, and, of course, when 
he did it, he was just crazy about losing all that 
money. He wasn’t that sort of a boy naturally. 
But you never did like him.” 

Eick smiled. “I didn’t know him, Eush. It 
was Bernard Clark, the poor half-witted man 
who did not care for Mr. Barnes. So disgrace 
meant nothing to you?” 

“Yes; it meant lots — you don’t understand 


336 


LITTLE RHODY 


what I mean. I couldn’t work, or hold good 
positions anyway, whether I were honest or not. 
Everyone treats me well. They did, even after 
they believed I took the money. But with 
Barnes it would have been different. But who 
told you that I confessed for Barnes’ sakel” 
Eick laughed as he looked down at the boy. 
He laid his hand on Petriken’s shoulder. ‘‘A 
little bird told me,” he replied. 

‘Ht might have been a ‘lyre-bird,’ ” answered 
the boy with a laugh, “and they cannot be 
trusted.” 

“This was no lyre-bird, nor was it a ‘raven’ 
when it told me. You told me yourself, old 
man. I had my suspicions. I acted upon them 
as granted, and you verified them. ’ ’ 

The boy saw how he had been caught. His 
face fiushed. He caught his companion by the 
arm. “You’ll not tell anyone. Promise me. 
I’d rather die than let anyone know.” 

“Don’t be concerned. No one has ever, or 
will ever hear me mention the subject. But 
you must remember this, that Dr. Weldon and 


LITTLE RHODY 


337 


Dr. Peirce have lived too long to not under- 
stand. It is my opinion that Dr. Weldon knew 
from the first. ’ ’ 

“Knew that Barnes was guilty? No; he be- 
lieved in Barnes.’’ 

“No; but that you were innocent. Some day 
we’ll find out. There is something else I wish 
to ask you. You must be my memory for awhile 
longer. What was the name of the woman 
where we stopped to take dinner the day we 
came here?” 

“Thurston. Do you remember her? Your 
memory must be coming back. ’ ’ 

“I do vaguely. Tell me what she talked about 
that day — even the most trifiing things. I know 
part, but I wish to be sure that I remember cor- 
rectly, and am not dreaming. ’ ’ 

Petriken related what had taken place there. 
Not even the most trifling incident was passed 
over. Where he forgot, Kick supplemented, un- 
til, together, the two had the story complete. 
^Yhen the story had been finished. Pick arose. 

^ ^ There will something happen, Petriken, old 


22 


338 


LITTLE RHODY 


man,’’ he said. ^‘You may be sure that Barnes 
will come out all right. I’m going to The Hall 
in a few days, and I think there will be good 
news to bring back. As to your confession all 
going for nothing, that’s nonsense. No good 
deed goes to the wall!” He took up a pile of 
books in his arms, ‘‘I’m trying to see how much 
I’ve forgotten,” he said. “I’m starting in at 
the place I quit, when Kant and I were together 
at Leipsic. He was the man I took you to be 
that night I awoke. I’ve been wondering where 
he is. Father said letters from him came after 
I was thought to be dead. I’m going to take a 
trip, just the moment the two old wise-heads 
think I’m able, and resurrect myself to my 
friends. ’ ’ 

As Petriken had remarked, there was a great 
hobnobbing among the elder men. There was 
much coming and going, letter-writing and tele- 
phoning each day. In all of this Petriken took 
no part. 

“I wish whatever is going to happen would 
happen soon,” he laughingly said one day, as 


LITTLE RHODY 


339 


they sat at the dinner-table. really get- 

ting tired of seeing so much going on, and noth- 
ing really happening. ’ ^ 

‘‘Well, rather than disappoint you, I shall see 
to it that something does happen. What day is 
to-morrow? Thursday? Well, what do you say 
to our all going down to the city, have dinner at 
the hotel, and drive around awhile in the after- 
noon? We ^11 show Dr. Miller and Eick that we 
know what city life means, even though we are 
shut up in the country, eh, Petriken?^’ said Dr. 
Peirce. 

“Fine!’’ cried Petriken. “I haven’t had a 
drive for ever so long, as this weather has kept 
me in the house. What time will we go?” 

“I think we can manage to get over to the 
station for the ten o’clock express. That will 
give us a full day. You and Eick had better 
look after your plants to-night. You’ll be hur- 
ried in the morning. ’ ’ He arose. Pushing back 
his chair, he stood quiet for a moment, looking 
at Eick with twinkling eyes. “I’m doing extra 
work now in the hothouse,” he said. “I had a 


340 


LITTLE RHODY 


very able assistant, by name Bernard Clark. 
But he left me several weeks ago.’’ 

‘‘Oh, that is too bad,” cried Eick. “Why did 
you not remind me? I know now! I used to 
spend my evenings regulating the heat, and 
watching those peculiar orchids from Acuaco. 
I saw them grow there by the thousand!” 

Dr. Peirce laughed. “I’m glad it has all come 
back. The night before I wrote to Dr. Mead, 
you tried to tell me where you had seen those 
plants, but you could not bring the place back 
to your mind. That is encouraging. It will all 
come, little by little. Be patient.” 

“I hope so,” cried Eick, springing to his feet. 
“I never set much value on it until I lost it. 
But I shall not forget about the flowers again. 
Come, Petriken, you must jog my memory while 
I work, lest I forget.” He strode on ahead, 
whistling as he went. 

“I don’t see how you can be so cheerful,” 
said Petriken, hobbling after him. “If I were 
in your place, I would be ‘blue’ all the time, 


LITTLE RHODY 


341 


thinking of those ten years which were knocked 
right out of the middle of my life/’ 

‘‘That is one way of looking at it,” was the 
reply, spoken cheerfully. “There is another 
way ; that time has come and gone. I’m through 
with it! And I cannot refrain from shouting 
with joy to know that I am out of that sleep. 
Though there were some good things about it 
too. I was given the privilege of knowing Dr. 
Weldon, and one or two men up at The Hall 
whom I would not have known otherwise, and 
whose true worth I never would have known, 
or never would have appreciated, had I not been 
the dependent I was.” 

“There’s something in that, too,” was the 
response, “although I never thought of it in 
that way. It seems the better way, though.” 

“Seems? It is the better way. Grief never 
helps anything. If you can better matters, get 
to work and do it. If you can’t, forget about 
them. Any man can make a heaven or hell of 
any place on earth. I mean to see to it that 
every place I’m in shall lose none of its happi- 


34:2 


LITTLE RHODY 


ness because I’m present, and when I leave 
here — ” 

‘‘Leave here?” with surprise. “Do you 
know, I never gave a thought to your not al- 
ways being here, with Dr. Peirce and me. Al- 
though I suppose you will go sometime. You 
are too young a man to be shut up here for 
always. Dr. Peirce would not be, if he were 
not an old man, or I either, if I could work any- 
where.” 

“Yes, I’m going and soon, as soon as I feel 
confident that I am really over all trouble of 
forgetting, and when enough of the old life 
comes back to me so that I will not feel lost 
among other men.” 

“Will you go back to school, Eick? I have 
heard what a student you were and how every- 
one expected great things of you.” 

Eick shook his head slowly. ‘ ‘ No more school 
days for me. I’m no longer a young man. It 
seems as though it were but last week I cele- 
brated my thirtieth birthday, yet to-day I am 
past forty. I was ambitious once to be a schol- 


LITTLE RHODY 


343 


arly man, to know all the book knowledge I 
could acquire. But of late there seems to me 
better things than books for a man to put into 
his life. Father, ever since mother left him, 
has been working among the poor in our city. 
He has built a nice little hospital. He takes in 
there the class of people no one else wants and 
sets them on their feet again. I’m going down 
there to help him.” 

‘‘But you never studied medicine, did you? 
Won’t you do some studying in that?” 

Eick shook his head slowly. He folded his 
arms across his breast, looking down with a 
smile upon his interlocutor. “ No ; I shall need 
to know nothing about that kind of medicine,” 
he said slowly, as though he were thinking and 
planning, before he put his thoughts into words. 
“Father will cure the sick bodies and try to 
straighten the deformed limbs, while I will work 
with the poor sin-sick souls and try to straight- 
en their crooked lives.” 

Petriken could not answer. He could but look 


344 


LITTLE RHODY 


at the man whose face was alight with inspira- 
tion of the life-work he had planned. 

Eick saw how his speech had affected the lad. 
He had no desire to pose or assume heroics. He 
believed in bringing joy rather than pathos into 
life. He laughed lightly. 

^‘What humbugs we are, Petriken, dreaming 
in idleness of the work we intend doing some 
time, when there’s enough at hand to keep us 
busy. Now, to the flowers ! Come, tell me what 
you think of our B inaria Vulgaris, Two years 
ago it was but a common ‘butter-and-eggs’ 
growing by the roadside. See what cultivation 
and care can do.” 

He put his hand under the drooping flower 
and raised it for his companion’s inspection. 
The common roadside weed had developed into 
a plant of rare beauty, and bore a load of 
golden, cup-like flowers. 

Immediately after breakfast the following 
morning, the party set out for the city. It had 
been weeks since Petriken had been away from 
Dr. Peirce’s home. He was fairly bubbling over 


LITTLE RHODY 


345 


with high spirits. He laughed at all that was 
said, and chatted almost without ce*asing. 

After dinner at a hotel, Dr. Peirce ordered 
the carriage for a drive. He gave Pick a sig- 
nificant look as the conveyance came up, and 
suggested that he had better speak to the driver 
before they started out. 

Petriken was in such high spirits that he gave 
no heed to this little by-play, but hobbled after 
Dr. Peirce, all the while keeping up a running 
fire of talk. Climbing into the carriage beside 
Dr. Miller, he looked about him. ‘‘That is 
north, isn’t it?” bobbing his head in that direc- 
tion. “Well, over there is where The Hall 
stands. It is a beautiful place even in winter. 
I wish you could see it. I wish Dr. Peirce would 
drive around that way.” 

“But you see that we are going directly 
west,” was Dr. Peirce’s response, taking up the 
reins. “I wish my friends to pass the College 
buildings and see some of the handsome homes 
out on Essex Street. Too bad. Push, but we’ll 
not drive toward the north to-day.” 


346 


LITTLE RHODY 


That part of the city was wholly unknown to 
Petriken. He was not interested in it. He had 
hoped ever since Dr. Peirce had mentioned this 
trip, that they might drive out the pike and 
catch a glimpse of the school. He would not 
have cared to stop. Considering the circum- 
stances which had compelled him to leave, a 
meeting now with students or instructors would 
not have been pleasant. Yet he would have 
liked a glimpse at the gray old walls, and the 
long stretch of campus. 

He wondered that Pick had not expressed a 
desire to see the place where he had lived so 
long. But he had appeared wholly indiffer- 
ent at the mention of The Hall, and now sat 
talking to Dr. Peirce and his father about the 
buildings they were passing, as though The Hall 
had had no part in his life. 

As for Petriken himself, he could not pretend 
interest where he felt none. He cared noth- 
ing about asphalt or brick for paving purposes, 
or whether the land was drained as it should 


LITTLE RHODY 


347 


be. So he let the men ramble on as they would, 
while he fell into a brown study. 

He gave no heed to where they were driving. 
The click of the horses ’ hoofs on the paving had 
changed to softer footfalls on the packed snow 
of the country road. They had made several 
turns, winding in and out, so that now Petriken 
did not know in which direction they were going. 

Eick looked at his watch. ‘‘Five minutes of 
three, he said, turning to Dr. Peirce. “Won’t 
you be compelled to drive a little faster to reach 
there by three T’ 

“No; better one minute too late, in this in- 
stance, than one minute too early. It’s only a 
mile now at the most.” 

Petriken aroused himself at these words. 
“Are you going somewhere in particular? I 
thought we were just going to drive about, and 
then go home.” He sat up and began looking 
about him. 

“Isn’t that anywhere in particular?” said 
Dr. Peirce. There was a suspicion of humor 
in his voice. He was sitting erect. His man- 


348 


LITTLE RHODY 


ner was that of one who could scarcely restrain 
himself from bubbling over with excitement and 
enthusiasm. 

Suddenly Petriken leaned forward touching 
Dr. Peirce ^s shoulder. ‘ ‘ Look over there ! Isn ’t 
that The Hall? Why, we are coming quite close 
to it.’’ 

Quite close,” cried the doctor with a laugh, 
at the same moment drawing rein and sweeping 
into the private driveway which led up to the 
building. 

‘‘But, Dr. Peirce,” cried the boy, “they’ll 
think it’s dreadful, driving about like this. No 
one ever uses this driveway unless they are go- 
ing to call on Dr. Weldon. It leads right up to 
the front entrance. Some one will see us, I’m 
sure.” 

“So am I, if they’re looking,” was the an- 
swer, gaily given, as Dr. Peirce flicked the 
horses with his whip until they sprang forward, 
‘ ‘ and I think they will see for there seems to be 
enough of them out. Looks as though they 


LITTLE RHODY 


349 


thonglit of having a parade, doable file, march, 
and all that. Look at them.’’ 

He waved his whip toward the building, in 
front of which was a great group of students 
bustling about in what seemed to be rather hur- 
ried efforts to get into order. 

Petriken’s heart failed him. He was in dis- 
grace. He had no desire to meet these boys 
and receive a snub such as they believed to be 
deserved. The driveway led right up to where 
the group of students was gathered. Dr. Peirce 
seemed determined to go on. There was no way 
to stop him now. In another moment the car- 
riage would be before the assembled school. 
Petriken sank back and closed his eyes. He 
would see no one; he would speak to no one. 
They must not be able to say that he had in- 
truded his presence upon them. 

The line had gotten itself into some kind of 
order, though wriggling and excited, with 
Barnes standing at the head, and just at the 
edge of the driveway. Bruce Watson, in his 
newest suit and a collar so high that his chin 


350 


LITTLE RHODY 


could be seen only when he tilted his head back- 
wards, was supporting Barnes on his right. 
Bruce was a little anxious as to the tips of his 
new patent leather boots. He was sure they 
were covered with dust. But he couldn’t look 
over his collar to see. It was a trying position. 
He made a noble effort to forget his shoes, and 
tilting his chin, kept his eyes fixed upon Barnes’ 
head. All the Union were present and occupy- 
ing the front ranks, except Shatter. He meant 
to be there, but was a little slow in appearing. 
Indeed, the Union had looked upon him as their 
star performer; on the strength of which he 
had been excused from classes the previous 
afternoon, so that he might have time to write 
up an address suited to the important events 
incident to this day. 

Suddenly the hall door opened and banged 
shut after Shatter. In the excitement of the 
moment, he had forgotten the address upon 
which he had spent so much time and energy. 
But he had not forgotten his much abused 
friend, the guitar. Watson had nicknamed it 


LITTLE RHODY 


351 


‘‘Shafter^s poor,” for it was always with him. 
He carried it with him now, and was striking 
chords on it in a way which would have made 
a musician’s blood run cold. 

‘‘Hurry up. They’re coming,” cried some 
one, pushing Shatter toward the front. 
“They’ve turned the bend.” 

At that moment, the carriage was seen at the 
edge of the campus. All the beautiful, soul- 
inspiring, poetic thoughts over which Shatter 
had sweated the day before disappeared as be- 
fore the wind. Shatter flung back his head and 
sang in his high tenor voice : 

“He’s the ‘capitalest’ one of us all. 

So they say — so they say. 

Though in stature he is short — ^he is small 
No other way — no other way. 

He’s the ‘capitalest’ one of us all. 

Is Rhody, — Little Rhody. 

Though in stature he is small. 

In honor none so tall 

As he, tall as he. 

Then carry him back, carry him back. 

He’s the man we all long to see. 

Back to his place in the dear old Hall, 

A place no one has honored more than he.” 


352 


LITTLE RHODY 


Softly came the refrain, as Shafter paused 
beside Barnes — softly from a half-hundred boys 
gathered there. 

“Then carry him back, carry him back, 

He’s the man we all long to see. 

Back to his place in the dear old Hall, 

A place no one has honored more than he.” 

Just at this critical place in the song, and 
right before Barnes, Dr. Peirce drew rein. 

Petriken thought he would faint with the 
shame of thus intruding. But little time was 
given him to think at all. The horses no sooner 
stood still than Barnes reached up, and without 
a word took the cripple in his arms, and then 
perched him high on his shoulders. Even then 
Petriken could neither speak nor think. All he 
could do was to cling close, with his arms flung 
about Barnes’ head. Some one had already 
taken possession of his crutches. Dr. Weldon 
stood on the steps smiling. 

Shafter said in a stage whisper, “It was Lo, 
the poor sweeper, who made a clean sweep and 
took all those things.” 


LITTLE RHODY 


353 


It took but an instant for this to happen. 
Barnes with Petriken on his shoulders moved 
toward the hallway. A shout arose from the 
boys. ‘‘Hurrah for Ehody, Little Ehody, the 
capitalest state of all!” 

“That’s you,” said Bruce, struggling to keep 
his chin above the sharp edges of his collar. 
“You’re a member of the Union, you’re Ehode 
Island,” while the hurrahs continued for Lit- 
tle Ehody, the “capitalest” state of all. 

Shouts and cheers went up from all. Never 
before had The Hall witnessed such a scene. 
Then came a hush. Some one turning suddenly 
about had observed the stranger among them, 
a man of dignified and scholarly bearing who 
stood looking on with an interest in the boys and 
their enthusiasm that was more than casual. 

The line came to a standstill. Barnes recog- 
nized Bernard. He stepped forward to speak 
with him, as he cried out his name. 

But Bernard, or Dr. Eichard Miller, saw him 
not. Moving past Barnes, he came to where 
Dr. Weldon and Shatter stood. Without a word 


23 


354 LITTLE RHODY 

he grasped their hands in his own. He tried to 
speak, hut words failed him. His eyes filled. 
What could he say to these who had used their 
strength to protect his weakness? He could but 
stand and grasp their hands in his own. A hush 
fell on the merry crowd of boys. Even Barnes 
was moved to tears. Without further speech, 
together they moved toward The Hall. 




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